The nearest town to the Heart of Gold, BurgessTown is a blooming cattle-country town.

The new space-port and glass factory make for shiny new profits for the Heart of Gold, while the Grocer, Bank and Seed & Feed Supply are all willing to do proper business with those from the Heart.

The Burgess Widow's mansion sits at the edge of town, next to the right and proper New Methodist Church, and the South Bellamy Baptist Denominational Chapel. They are less than willing to do proper business with those from the Heart.

The Theatre, Bookshop, and Henry's Used Goods are all down on Main Street, along with City Hall and the Sheriff's Office. The Theatre is pretty poor, the Bookshop is dusty, and Henry's has good deals and is willin' to trade some. Best avoid City Hall. They don't have much use for the Heart of Gold, unless they're finding something to fine or tax us for.

Here's a few local faces for you to look out for.




This here is Sheriff Yates. Feel free to make his acquaintance. Or not, dependin' on what your purpose is here.


Todd Mackellroy is an outlaw. You see him comin' best you walk the other way. Still and all, he's got his uses. ;)


Widow Burgess. Richest lady on this moon, and knows it. I wouldn't recommend crossing her.


Ryforth Danton, Attorney at Law. Works for the Widow and is, really, the only attorney in town. His office is on the corner of Willow and Main, right opposite the Bookshop.


Judith Wynter: Runs Henry's Used Goods. If you can't find it at Henry's it probably doesn't exist, and Judy's story-telling comes free with any purchase!


Chari Carew. I think y'all know her, and them that do mostly don't trust her overly much.

Ladies, Gentlemen, and all those not-so-gentles, Welcome to BurgessTown.

Sheriff's Office: Jail Cell

Welp, they hadn't hanged him yet.


That was a bonus as far as Miller could see. He seemed to be healing up nicely, and the Sheriff hadn't been stingy with food or drink, so he really didn't have much to quibble about, aside from the whole looking for a reason to hang him part.


The Lawyer, Darnon, or Dannon, or Darling, whatever, had come by and said that the glass-load was stolen by the ship that the Rose had tried to steal it from. That the actual shipper had shown up late the next morning and found nothing to ship.

So, at this point, there seemed to be some debate as to whether stealing from pirates who steal is a crime or not. Either way, he was in dock for attacking the Sheriff.

"Tried to be nice about it." Miller mumbled to himself as he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. There was a spider up there, kept spinning and spinning and spinning. And every now and again, a big old cow fly would buzz in, get caught, and tear up that web trying to get free.

Spider'd eat the fly, and then start all over again spinning and spinning. It was some kind of entertainment for a man who was waiting for the town to find an excuse to hang him.

The Burgess Mansion


Juniper watched Millie pour the tea patiently. As soon as the elderly maid had finished and left the room, she turned to her visitor.

"Rance simply didn't have the foresight to think he might fail." She took a sip of tea, nodded approvingly, and added two little lumps of sugar, "Now that he's gone, so much falls to me to correct."

"I've tried every legal means, you understand. But Danton informs me that Jinye civil law is very clear on the matter. If there's no word of Rance within the next one hundred and twenty days then he'll be officially listed as deceased and everything I own will be forfeit. I'm afraid that the terms of my absent husband's will are very clear. That brat stands to inherit everything."

Her visitor's voice, strong and masculine even in it's humility seemed to echo in the delicately decored parlor, "Yeah, I know, but ... What your askin'? Missus Burgess, I'm not the man yer lookin' after."

"Well, your the only man I've got." She snapped crisply in reply, "So you'll have to do." Her gaze turned pleading, "Don't you understand? I'll be a pauper! Penniless. And what good will I be to anyone then?"

She shook her head, her high-perched hair-bun bobbling with determination, "No. Here is how it is. You like your land, like your little pretenses at being the great rancher, you can pay for the privelege just like everyone else. This is my price. "

Her watery eyes fixed on her visitor with an imperious stare. "Kill the brat, sell it to slavers, I don't care what you do with it just as long as it's never heard from on this moon again. I won't lose everything to some whore's suckling whelp. Do you understand me?"

Her visitor cringed, "Yes'm I understand. I'll see to it."

Juniper rose abruptly, a swift dismissal in her tone and stance, her tone softer, "See that you do, Mr. Mackellroy, or so help me, I'll see you and your little friends burned out of those hills down to the last head of sheep."

She stood by the window and watched him ride away. Yes, Todd Mackellroy, poaching unscrupled outlaw or not, had his uses.

Burgesstown Spaceport

"Gan Ni Niang!" The short, Sino man shouted from the top of the cargo hold at the young, black man walking down the ramp, a large pack attached to his back. "Ni shi hun dan!"

Reggie Hopkins didn't even bother to turn around. "Luan, this is not a conversation I am interested in having."

Luan followed him down. "You're leavin' in the middle of a gorram job, you filthy bastard. Where am I going to find a pilot who can make the Ares Jump on this miserable piece of go se?"

"You've mistaken this for being my problem," said Reggie, still walking. "Besides, I didn't get paid for the last job. Or the one before that."

"Ain't my fault, things went south. You were in for a percentage of the cut. No cut, no payday."

Reggie stopped and calmly turned toward the man, smiling. "You ain't seeing a pattern here? Things going south? Because that's the only direction we've been travelin' since I signed on with your ship." Reggie turned and resumed walking. "And I'm gettin' tired of risking my own skin having to pull your ass out of the fire, and not getting rewarded for my trouble. Time to face facts, Luan. You're low on credits, your ship is falling apart, and 'cept for the Doc, your crew are chwen." He turned and got right in Luan's face. "You might want to strongly consider that you ain't got the sand for this kind of work." Luan's face reddened, his expression growing more livid as Reggie impassively stared him down. "Now if you'll excuse me, it's time I resumed walking... any direction but South."

Luan turned and stormed back up the ramp, hurling Chinese epithets every step of the way. Reggie took a look around his new port of call. "Course, I could have waited til' we landed somewhere civilized. Sheee-yit. What a dump."

As Reggie turned, he noticed a bedraggled, dirt-covered man with a thick beard staring at him, mouth agape. The men exchanged peculiar glances for a few seconds before Reggie spoke.

"Have I sprouted dragon wings? Is there a transfixin' glow about my person? Perhaps a halo above my head?"

"W-w-w-what?" stuttered the man, still staring.

More direct. "Why the RUT are you starin' at me?"

"W-w-w-what?"

"Great Vishnu. A moron." "You say anything besides 'what?'"

"M-my n-n-name's T-T-T-T-T-Thomas."

"Well hell, T-T-T-Thomas, my name's Reggie." He walked up to the man and slapped him on the back, unleashing a cloud of dust. "Whooo-eee! You smell like you shovel shit for a livin', Thomas. Am I right?"

"Yessir."

Reggie unhooked his pack and handed it to Thomas. "Than you're strong enough to carry this. Tell you what, Thomas. You direct me to the nearest place where I can get a nice room, a good meal and some trim, and I'll pay for a bath for you. Maybe your nose can smell somethin' other than cow dung for a bit."

"Ah g-g-git a bath ev'ry th-th-th-thirty days, if'n w-we g-got the water to spare," opined Thomas.

"Stay focused, Thomas," admonished Reggie, dusting off his suit. "Where we headed'?"

"P-P-P-Petaline runs a wh-wh-whorehouse outside a' town. The H-H-Heart o' Gold. W-w-w-we kin take a coach there."

"Sounds fine. Let's get going, T-T-T-Thomas. And don't drop my ruttin' pack."

Burgesstown Spaceport

She walked alone down the steep ramp. Xui-Mei was dressed in one of her nice kimono styled sun dresses which stopped at the knee; pink and lavender were its colors. On her feet were white and light pink Geta sandals. She moved effortlessly through the small crowd of people, carrying with her one bag.

As she appoarched two men she heard one say, "P-P-P-Petaline runs a wh-wh-whorehouse outside a' town. The H-H-Heart o' Gold. W-w-w-we kin take a coach there." Xui-Mei stopped dead in her tracks. Turning to the two men she bowed as she spoke. "Pardon me, good sirs, 're ya goin' to the Heart? If so, might I ride along? I have a few coin to pay for my seat."

"Pardon me, good sirs, 're ya goin' to the Heart? If so, might I ride along? I have a few coin to pay for my seat."

Reggie turned and looked the woman up and down over the edge of his green-tinted glasses.

"Sh-sh-sh-shore thing, ma'am. Y-y-y-you c-c-can r-r-ride with..."

"Hush up, Thomas," Reggie interrupted. "Take an hour to finish a gorram sentence."

He smiled sweetly at the new arrival. "Well shoot, miss. We'd be a couple of si tao to decline. Your mere presence on the same conveyance would validate our pathetic, ruttin' existences." He turned to Thomas, who was giving Xui-Mei the same glossy-eyed stare that he greeted Reggie with earlier. "Eyes down, Thomas. Where's your manners?"

Thomas quickly complied, staring at the ground.

"You'll have to forgive my friend here. The deities have seen fit to afflict him with a lack of wit... He snapped the last word in Thomas's direction. "...no doubt in order to test our earthly mercies. I'm sure you've noticed his odor by now--the man consorts with livestock, so it can't be helped. I've smelled enough go se in my time to not take affront, but you could easily be forgiven for bein' less tolerant and preferring an alternative method of transportation."

Reggie took off his glasses, removed a handkerchief from his pocket and started wiping them down. He leaned in to whisper something to Xiu-Mei.

"Miss, if I may be bold, you ARE aware that the Heart is a house of ill repute? I mean, my friend and I have business there. He's anticipatin' his monthly bath with an unbridled ruttin' ecstasy you and I could scarcely fathom, while I am, speaking indelicately, in for a meal and a piece of nee yin. We are brigands, both of us, but I would not want the great unwashed amongst us--present ruttin' company excluded," he said, indicating Thomas, "mistakin' you for a whore."

Henry’s Used Goods

Dust hung in the air of the dimly lit shop as Judy swept her hair off her neck, setting it up messily in a simple clip. Her hazel eyes cut through the dim lighting with ease brought on by familiarity, studying the cluttered heaps of junk. The store, at first glance, was small, the door to the back room half blocked by boxes of books, some of which were covered in a thin layer of dust. Running long, thin fingers through her blonde hair, the pale young woman moved slowly from behind the counter, grabbing a broom as she passed it and tucking a rag into the waistband of her skirt.

As the stiff bristles of the broom whisked across the floor, Judith began to hum to herself, spinning in place. Slowly, the dim lighting appeared dusky, as though candlelight illuminated the area rather than sunlight piercing through the dust hanging in the air. Her humming grew stronger and more melodic, skirt brushing her legs as she danced with her thin partner, spinning between piles and boxes with ease. Despite the long hours, she loved working alone. It freed her to do things like this with no real fear of judgment.

A dull clatter announced the broom dropping to the floor, Judy giving herself over to the dance. In her mind, the piles of assorted clutter vanished, her low cut dark colored dress turning into a more beautiful one, gold colored and made of a lighter fabric. A delicate crown appeared on her head…before her hand knocked into a standing lamp that had a short. The lamp light flickered as the lamp fell into a pile of books, which collapsed into a closed box. The box fell over, spilling its contents-spare parts gathered from across the ‘verse-all over a collection of empty picture frames.

Judy’s cheeks lit up brightly as she covered her mouth and surveyed the damage, dust hanging in the air heavier than before like a thick curtain. ”Oh, please tell me nothin’ broke…” The worry in her voice joined the dust, further thickening the air as she moved towards the mess. Her pale hands moved carefully, examining each misplaced piece as if dealing with a flock of injured birds. The blush faded as hazel eyes checked, hands re-organizing the chaos. On the floor, the broom lay forgotten. Judy danced no more; now, she was a skilled doctor examining her patients, a mother soothing the hurt of a small child, completely claimed by her task as her ears listened for the chiming of bells that would announce the store’s first customer of the day.

She listened with the curiosity of a cat. Though smiling, Xui-Mei felt slightly uneasy when the man leaned in and began to whisper.

"Miss, if I may be bold, you ARE aware that the Heart is a house of ill repute? I mean, my friend and I have business there. He's anticipatin' his monthly bath with an unbridled ruttin' ecstasy you and I could scarcely fathom, while I am, speaking indelicately, in for a meal and a piece of nee yin. We are brigands, both of us, but I would not want the great unwashed amongst us--present ruttin' company excluded," he said, indicating Thomas, "mistakin' you for a whore."

A look of puzzlement washed across her face. Her thoughts focused on that word. Whore? What whore? I'm no whore, but I am a fancy. Looking at the man she spoke; her voice echoing innocence. "Whore? Do you mean, havin' sex for money?" She asked as her eyes went wide; head tilting.

"Whore? Do you mean, havin' sex for money?"

"That's right, ma'am. I hope the thought of it doesn't make you swoon. And not the hallowed, dignified ruttin' of a Companion, neither. No gorram tea ceremony or prayin' to Buddha. Sheer, ruttin' barbarism! Ain't that right, Thomas?"

Thomas, head still bowed, quickly made the sign of the cross. Reggie continued, growing more animated and fervent with each word.

"And to the extent that they are commerced by wayward spacefarin' men like myself, who have forsaken faith and family and the cycle of nature for the pursuit of a symbol," he said, holding up a credit with both hands and flexing it, "...well, who's ruttin' who? Usually, when I dump a load of cargo, I'm the one who gets paid. Not the other way around. Does that seem right to you?"

Reggie looked around suspiciously, as if to check to see if anyone was eavesdropping. He then whispered to Xui-Mei.

"I'll confide something in you, ma'am. Something that makes the whole grim business awkward as hell." His voice was even lower. "Whores are ruttin' human." He nodded knowingly to her. "Messes with my head to think about it. Can hardly concentrate long enough to do my business."

"...body of Christ," mumbled Thomas.

"I mean, no matter how much I'm gettin' paid to fly a ship, I ain't gonna let the Captain... you know what I'm saying? I can be bought, but I have a dominion over myself. But a whore..." Reggie shook his head. "Where does her dominion start? She's a human being who's in the business of not being human. Makes me fong luh just thinkin' about it."

Reggie gazed intently at Xui-Mei for a few seconds, before blinking and suddenly snapping out of it.

"But you know, if you was a whore, you'd definitely provide a touch of the exotic to this pile of go se, given your celestial origins." He smiled lasciviously at her. "I've been told that your people have an extensive understanding of the carnal arts. Maybe you can benefit Thomas and I with your knowledge of womanly pleasures... that is, if you're still continuing with us on the road to degradation."

"But you know, if you was a whore, you'd definitely provide a touch of the exotic to this pile of go se, given your celestial origins." He smiled lasciviously at her. "I've been told that your people have an extensive understanding of the carnal arts. Maybe you can benefit Thomas and I with your knowledge of womanly pleasures... that is, if you're still continuing with us on the road to degradation."

Again with this word. Whore. I am no common whore. I am Geiko! Xui-Mei looked the man over carefully. With the same voice of innocence, Xui-Mei spoke softly projecting her voice only to his ears. "Good sir, I am no whore. And I am offended by such forth going finger pointing. I am a Geiko. For me it is not the sex I work for, but to lift my voice to the Heavens above to bless the Gods in song." Looking him over slowly, Xui-Mei presented a courteous smile. She cleared her throat before continuing to speak. "I am human, sir. I have a child back home, a happy life, and my enchanting voice. You may call me a fancy or even a Geiko, but to call me a whore is very unbecoming of your character. Since I do not feel like waiting for the next ride I will proceed with you. And yes I have advanced knowledge of the carnal arts to which I'd be all to happy to share, but only with you." She finished with a wink towards the man. "Since our paths are entwined, may I have the great honor of knowing your name sir?"

OCC: Geiko is a Geisha, but one whom will have sex for profit.

"Good sir, I am no whore. And I am offended by such forth going finger pointing. I am a Geiko. For me it is not the sex I work for, but to lift my voice to the Heavens above to bless the Gods in song."

Reggie presented a look of mock-surprise. "Well, I do apologize, miss. I wasn't aware your profession objected to the term. A 'gee-ko'. Huh. Ain't never heard of that. Do you do the ruttin' and the singin' at the same time, or... how does that work?"

Looking him over slowly, Xui-Mei presented a courteous smile. She cleared her throat before continuing to speak. "I am human, sir. I have a child back home, a happy life, and my enchanting voice. You may call me a fancy or even a Geiko, but to call me a whore is very unbecoming of your character. Since I do not feel like waiting for the next ride I will proceed with you. And yes I have advanced knowledge of the carnal arts to which I'd be all to happy to share, but only with you." She finished with a wink towards the man.

Now Reggie was legitimately shocked, and somewhat impressed. "Insult the woman, and she offers you her bed. Now that is a true, ruttin' professional." He gave her a big, gleaming smile.

"W-w-we kin git a coach t-t-to the Heart from Miz Wynter o-over at H-H-Henry's," stumbled Thomas, still staring at the ground.

"Why don't you go do that, Thomas?" said Reggie, never taking his eyes off the lovely Asian woman. "Leave us civilized folk to get better acquainted." Thomas scampered off towards the Used Goods store.

"Since our paths are entwined, may I have the great honor of knowing your name sir?"

"Reggie Ruttin' Hopkins, miss." He took her hand gently and kissed it. Nothing could bring out the gentleman more in Reggie than the prospect of willing trim, especially one that was this fine. "Ain't no honor in knowin' it, though, judgin' from the people who already do. And what may I call you that ain't guaranteed to cause offense?"

"Reggie Ruttin' Hopkins, miss." He took her hand gently and kissed it. Nothing could bring out the gentleman more in Reggie than the prospect of willing trim, especially one that was this fine. "Ain't no honor in knowin' it, though, judgin' from the people who already do. And what may I call you that ain't guaranteed to cause offense?"

As he took her hand and kissed it, Xui-Mei released the tiniest giggle from her throat and brought her right hand to her lips doing her best to hold back the laughter. Then smiled still a twitter with giggling, Xui-Mei spoke softly as she bowed. "My name is Xui-Mei. Pronounced 'Zoo-May'. My friends call me Mei though. And that, Mr. Hopkins, is what I will allow you to address me as." Using the hand he still held Xui-Mei used it to pull herself closer, entangling it loosely through his. She knew she had a good reason other then seeing her husband to wear her best perfume that day. Jasmine-Lotus with a hint of vanilla. She had gotten as an 'I miss you' present from her giant a few months back. He had always had good taste.

Henry's Used Goods

Thomas ambled on into the shop, carrying Reggie's pack. He saw that Mrs. Wynter was going over something on the floor. Mrs. Wynter was purty.

"Hi, M-M-Mrs. W-Wynter," greeted Thomas amiably. "G-g-got some f-f-folks who's headed to the H-H-H-Heart. They's needin' the coach, ma'am."

Thomas looked around the store. The used store was all full of neat stuff. People 'round town sent Thomas in to pick up things. Thomas weren't too good with numbers, but Mrs. Wynter always made sure he got correct change so nobody yelled at him for gettin' mixed up. Mrs. Wynter was nice that way. And purty.

Thomas stood expectantly, not quite sure what to do next. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with.

Dry Goods Store


It was like being in a candy store, there was so much to choose from. The selection wasn't the greatest that Quentin had seen, but there was some good deals to be had.


"I'll take one of those." replied Quentin, pointing to a lever action rifle behind the counter. "An' one of those." said Quentin, pointing to a pump action shotgun. "An' gimme two of those .44s. The stainless steel ones." said Quentin, finally pointing to a pair of revolvers in the display case next to the counter.


"Will that be all, sir?" replied the owner, adding the items that Quentin picked out to the boxes and boxes of ammo, knives, and various guns of every caliber imaginable.


Quentin looked over the mound of items in front of him and said "Reckon so."


The owner was a short, elderly man, with white hair, thick glasses, who wore the typical Rim shopkeeper attire of a pinstriped long sleeved shirt, brown trousers, and a well worn apron.


As he rang up Quentin's purchases on the old register, he asked Quentin "That's a-mighty lot of ammo your purchasin'. If you don't mind my askin' what do you need all of it for?"


"Huntin', shootin', and protectin'." replied Quentin, scratching at his stubble. "I really need to shave." he thought.


"Explosive ammo ain't hardly the type of ammo most people use for huntin', sonny." replied the man. Finishing up his tally, he continued "That'll be 5000 Platinum or 2000 Credits."


"I know. I jus' like makin' sure what I'm shootin' at stays dead." replied Quentin, smiling as he plopped a stack of bills onto the counter.


"Well, sonny, what you do with that ammo is up to you. It ain't none of my business to poke my nose in anybody's business. You do that and you wind up shot in the gut." replied the old man as he took Quentin's money.


Quentin looked outside at the bike he borrowed from the late Roland Black. He didn't know the man, but it wasn't like Mr. Black was using it anymore.


"That bike ain't gonna carry all the stuff I jus' bought. Gonna need somethin' made fer carryin' things." thought Quentin as he pocketed his receipt and said "That was well said, ol' man. Listen do ya know where I can get somethin' that's a little more cargo freindly?" He hooked a thumb over to the bike outside and continued "Cause that thing ain't gonna cut it."


The old man craned his neck over the stack of ammo boxes, saw the bike Quentin was pointing to, and said "Well I might have somethin' in the back that might help you if you'll follow me."


Quentin did what the old man told him to do. He followed the man as he stepped through a door leading out of the back of the store and into a dank, dusty, and very dark room. The old man flipped a light switch and a moment later rows upon rows of overhead shop lights came on, making Quentin shield his eyes for a couple of seconds until his eyes adjusted to the light.


The old man stepped forward towards a tarp covered object, took off the tarp and said "She ain't pretty and she needs a bit of work, but she'll handle all your cargo carryin' needs."


<<OOC: To Be Continued....>>

Hell. Perfectly good hover bike just settin' there right in front of the dry-goods store?

Looks like ole' Roland Black's thievin' was about to be repayed by the responsible thievin' populace.

Todd Mackellroy didn't waste much time slidin that bit of shiny right on out of town.

<<OOC: Continued from last post.>>


The Mule was exactly what the old man said it was. There were rust patches here and there on its faded red box of a body, one headlight was gone, the seats were tore up and chewed through, and one of the four tires was flatter than a woman with an A cup.


Quentin gave the pile of go-se a once over and asked "How much ya want fer it, ol' man?"


"Well I'll give it to you if you don't mind parting with that bike of yours." replied the old timer, grinning.


"Are ya ruttin' kiddin' me ol' man?" asked Quentin.


"No sir, I ain't kiddin'. The ol' ball and chain would never let me have a bike. Now that she's kicked the bucket, Lord rest her soul, I can finally experience the thrill of the wind in my hair by golly." replied the old man, hawking a loogie on the ground.


Quentin shrugged and said "All right fine. Let me go an' get it."


Quentin made his way back into the store and looked out the door. Now most people would be shocked to find their hover bike not where they left it, but not Quentin. He simply shrugged and headed back into the back room.


"Well." said Quentin as he walked in. "Looks like ya won't be gettin' a nice shiny hover bike."


"Well why the hell not?" asked the man, disappointment in his eyes.


"Cause someone done stole it that's why." replied Quentin, picking at the ear wax in his left ear, looking at it, and then flicking it to the ground.


"Well ain't you goin' to report it to the Sheriff or somethin'?" asked the geezer, putting his hands on his frail old man hips.


Quentin shrugged and said "Wasn't mine in the first place, so I guess there ain't no reason fer me to report it." He looked over to the rust bucket Mule and asked "So how much do ya fer the Mule?"


The old man sighed and said "Just take the gorram thing." The old man then smiled and winked at Quentin before continuing "She ain't mine either. Belonged to the old ball and chain's hun dan of a brother. It'll do better in your hands than in those of that ruttin' good for nothing qing wa cao de liu mang."


Quentin was a little shocked at the old man's use of langauge. He let out a loud chuckle then said "Ol' man yer my kind of guy. I'll go an' load her up then I'll be outta yer hair."


<<Go-se: Crap.>>
<<Hun dan: Bastard.>>
<<Qing wa cao de liu mang: Frog humping son of a b****.>>

Henry's Used Goods

"Hi, M-M-Mrs. W-Wynter. G-g-got some f-f-folks who's headed to the H-H-H-Heart. They's needin' the coach, ma'am."

Judy looked up, squinting slightly through the gloom. She recognized Thomas' voice immediately, of course, but still wanted to check whether or not he was alone. Rising, a warm smile of welcome on her face, she approached the older man, briefly resting a hand on his shoulder. "All right, Thomas. Lemme see if I can find 'er for you. Been doin' all right?"

Smoothly, she moved away from Thomas and glided back behind the counter, digging through the numerous small drawers. "Well, now, I got that thing 'round here someplace... I'd lose my head if it weren't attached; Daddy always told me that. I was forever losin' things back home. 'Course things were different back home. Cold for one thing." As she spoke, the petite girl moved back from around the counter and started looking around the store.

"It'll be a few minutes 'fore the coach shows up. I gotta find my corpad so I can figure where they're at…” Moving fluidly, she headed back around the counter and into the main part of the shop, digging through boxes. ”Here it is.”

Blowing dust from the corpad, ignoring the sticky stain of unknown origins that caught the light as the cover flipped back, Judy got to work, talking as her fingers danced over the keys. ”You know, last time I was callin’ the coach, it was for a couple of off-worlders. They wanted transport off-planet, was headin’ for their honeymoon.” A soft smile of longing appeared briefly on the young blonde’s face before her hazel eyes danced with triumph. ”Well, I got that for you, Thomas. Coach oughta be here soon. You’re welcome to wait here where its cool ‘til she shows. Just bring them folks on in too if they like.”

Rising, a warm smile of welcome on her face, she approached the older man, briefly resting a hand on his shoulder. "All right, Thomas. Lemme see if I can find 'er for you. Been doin' all right?"

Thomas blushed and smiled a big, toothless smile.

"Yes, ma'am." People often asked Thomas if he was doin' alright. He never really did know the answer to that question for sure, but din't feel otherwise, so he said he did.

Mrs. Wynter was a whirlwind of words and movement. Thomas wasn't sure of what she was sayin'. Somethin' about her daddy. Thomas wondered if her daddy was with the Lord, but he had been told it was impolite to ask such questions. But Thomas thought she moved around real purty, not like anyone else. Thomas didn't know the word for it, but he thought she moved like a flower in the breeze.

"”Well, I got that for you, Thomas. Coach oughta be here soon. You’re welcome to wait here where its cool ‘til she shows. Just bring them folks on in too if they like.”

"Okay, ma'am. Thank ya."

Thomas shuffled off to get the two new folks.

Henry's Used Goods

The door to the Used Goods Store creaked opened. Reggie held it and moved out of the way, bowing exaggeratedly with his arm extended as Xui-Mei entered, Thomas following hesitantly behind her. Reggie shot up and glared at Thomas, prompting him to move through a bit faster. Reggie closed the door behind him and looked around disdainfully, sniffing at the air. He glanced at Judith Wynter behind the counter, and regarded her with an unreadable expression. He leisurely paced through the store, turning his indifferent attention to the items on the shelves.

Xui-Mei could see that Reggie had a certain naive charm, but to her Reggie lack in immense girth. A gentleman at heart, Reggie seemed to be full of sly speech and 'bedding' ideas. The store they were walking around reminded her of home --almost all of the smells were familiar to her. Xui-Mei loved it here.

Moving slowly around the shelves, Xui-Mei thought of something she wanted. Moving to the counter, Xui-Mei raised a hand as she spoke to the female clerk. "Excuse me, Miss. I was wonderin' if you might have any dried pickled ginger?" Her 'Giant' loved pickled ginger.

(Occ: Snap/Reggie pm'd me the top half and I wrote out the buttom.)

Henry's Used Goods

Judith watched with a smile as Thomas returned with two others. "Welcome to Henry's Used Goods. Feel free to look around. Coach oughta be here in a few minutes." With that brief greeting, she watched them roam through the main room of the store.

"Excuse me, Miss. I was wonderin' if you might have any dried pickled ginger?"

"Dried pickled ginger? Sure do. How much would you like?" She moved out from behind the counter once more, one hand lifting her skirt about an inch off the floor to keep her from tripping over it. Hazel eyes scanned the shelves easily, moving over memorized ground and familiar territory. Finally, she located the ginger, hanging in the far corner.

Pulling over the ladder, she set it up, checked its stability and climbed up. If not for that ladder, Judy would never be able to reach anything that was above the tables. From her perch, she looked down and waited, one hand holding tight to the ladder.

Henry's Used Goods

OOC: Thomas god-modded with reluctant permission from myself.

H-h-h-hang on, Miz W-W-Wynter, I'll hold her for yew." Thomas scampered over to stabilize the ladder the storekeep was on.

Reggie was starting to regret his decision to jump ship on a Rim world. The heat and dust left him feeling hostile, not in control of himself. Sure, he was looking forward to getting a ride at the whorehouse, but that was more a matter of biological necessity, an urge to work off all the angers and frustrations that inevitably found a way to gather up inside him. He derived more relief than pleasure from such encounters.

What Reggie really wanted was to feel ship's metal under his feet and get back out into the Black. He knew that whatever life held for him was happening out there. In the Black, there was no civilization, no distractions, nothing to cloud a mind from the truth of things. Reggie had had an encounter with an old drunk on Beaumonde, whose words had stayed with him. The old man longed to see the face of the universe. Sometimes, sitting alone in a cockpit, Reggie thought he could imagine it. He knew he would die out there some day.

A clatter sounded from outside the store. Reggie peeked out the window.

"Coach is here."

He grabbed his pack and headed out.

To Be Continued at the Heart of Gold thread.

Henry's Used Goods

The bell above the door let out a cheerful jangle, announcing a customer's presence only a moment before a cheerful, "Halloo!" A second later a hefty burlap bag full of supplies popped through the door, followed closely by the rest of Chari Carew. The former fancy saluted Judith with her bag and a grin, and she greeted the shopkeeper warmly. "Judy, how are you?"

She couldn't resist tossing off lazy winks to the few other customers in the store on her way up, and there was a pronounced sway to her hips, two stubborn, vestigial habits from her days at the Heart that she had yet to break. There was precious little else about her to suggest any past connection to the place; bereft of the baubles that'd once held it up on display, her hair hung in a servicable French braid down her back, and she was dressed simply in homespun, oft-repaired clothes that she'd bought at this very shop with her earnings from the factory.

Protein bars and and bundles of clothing shifted together inside the bag as Chari dug through it's contents, and after a moment she pulled out a necklace of interlocking disks made of gilded bronze. Her eyes lingered briefly on the trinket before she set it down on the counter, looking up at Judith anxiously. "How much do you think this could fetch, Judy?" She'd really rather not sell it -it'd been a birthday present from Nandi- but there was no other choice. Even with the fixed income from her job at the factory she was getting dangerously low on funds, especially with all of the added expenses she'd been racking up lately.

At sight of the factory worker, Judith smiled a touch wider than her usual greeting. "Hey there, Chari. I'm doin' fine." Before she could inquire about her latest customer, the plainly dressed regular leaned over the counter and questioned in an anxious whisper about a trinket. She'd come to talk buisness.

Without waiting to be invited or giving Chari much chance to object, the shopkeep swept the necklace off the counter and held it up, her practiced eye studying it in the now-lit shop. Despite the dust, Judith liked depending on natural light during the day and hardly turned any lights on in the place until near sunset. "Well made." She lowered the necklace to eye level once more and examined each disc, her moves quick and efficient. "Not much wear on it. Might need a little bit of shinin' up. Clasp's good. Good weight to it-obviously not a fake."

After her cursory examination, the petite shopkeeper's hazel eyes returned to the waiting gaze of her customer. She looked around briefly, then moved an inch closer, motioning the other woman to lean in. Judith spoke with quiet confidence, a silent promise in her tone that she would reveal nothing of the transaction if requested. One eyelid dropped quickly in a cheeky, playful wink as she smiled at the idea of a possible coming challenge as well as to assuage Chari's worries. "Depends, Chari. How much you need it to fetch ya?"

Chari recognized Judy's game for what it was, and also knew that she would lose. Subtlety wasn't her strong suit. Groaning, the former fancy rested her elbows on the counter and stared longingly at the storage barrels off to the side, kissing goodbye to the dried chocolate milk that she'd been meaning to buy with some of the credits that now looked to be in danger of falling between the cracks of Judy's register. "Probably more than you'll end up giving me," she admitted with a self-deprecating laugh.

Her tongue darted out and licked her lips in an entirely subconscious gesture as gave those barrels another sidelong look. "Tell ya what, Judy, you toss in a few scoops of them chocolate thingers and I imagine I could work overtime a few days to getcha some more of those stained glass windows you've been eyeballin'. Though some coin wouldn't go amiss, neither," she added hastily. "I got a man over," she said with a trilling laugh, her raised eyebrows adding another whole depth of meaning to the words, "and I'd like to spruce my room up a bit so it don't look like the innkeep shoved some furniture in there that gave up the ghost when my gran-maw's gran-maw was still in diapers."

The shopkeep kept quiet, still studying the necklace as though through a magnifying glass. As Chari made her offer, numbers rolled through Judy's mind. What it would be worth elsewhere. What its value was in terms of materials and quality. What folk here were likely to pay for the trinket. Pricing it too low would lose the store money. Pricing it too high, the thing wouldn't get sold. Of course, before worrying over which shelf to put it on, Judith had to figure what she would pay to get it. That would determine what she'd charge later.

Couple scoops of chocolate in trade for the multicolored glass the petite blonde's heart had been set on for so long. It would look so good in the back of the shop, set ever so carefully in the little loft room that was Judy's home-after all, she didn't need much and loved her little store... Despite her effort to keep a neutral expression, the fantasy was far too tempting, making her hazel eyes glow as she saw herfelf curled up with a warm blanket and a good book, sunlight coming through like-

Just as quickly as the fantasy had come, it fled. The woman was all buisness once more, though a light smile graced her features at the lingering idea of what might be. That possibility, that hope in a better future, was why Judith tried so hard to shine up her past through use of her stories. She sighed briefly, a small sound of private longing before addressing Chari.

"Best I can offer you in this dustbowl...not much call for such things out here 'cept at the Heart, as I'm sure you know." She shrugged, more in understanding of a shared situation between the two than mere sympathy or apology, and quietly packaged up two bundles of the requested chocolate. Beside it, she quickly counted out 200 credits. "Anything else for you today?"

Burgesstown Spaceport

"Ladies and gennelmen, we'll be touching down at the Burgesstown Spaceport in five," the grizzled voice sparked over the comm. "All goin' abroad would be advised to pack up their go-se now. Welcome to Jinye."

From his cabin, Will Petros looked up at the comm, his face a slate of nervous anticipation. The map of the galaxy stretched across his lap had several creases in it, from years of folding and unfolding. He liked to think of it as adding texture to the 'Verse. His home planet, Scyros, was in the midst of one of these bumps, barely the size of a fingertip with the galaxy scaled down to three feet in width. Jinye was a little larger, about the size of Will's fingertip. His finger traced a line between the two planets. No more than a couple of inches on the map, it was a more impressive distance for a body, at least one that hadn't ever left the surface of his homeworld.

Will folded up his map and placed it in the side pocket of his portfolio case. Inside of the case were rolls of canvas, sketchpads, brushes, paints, chalk and other art supplies. In addition to the portfolio he carried a knapsack that had four changes of clothes in it, three of them coveralls suitable to the manual labor Will was sure he would be doing. He was wearing something a bit more presentable at the moment: a white dress shirt, black vest, gray trousers and black boots; the closest thing he had to formal wear, it was hardly formal at all, but he wanted to make a good impression on his prospective new employer. He had 25 credits in his pocket, the only money to his name.

Will made his way to the transport ship's cargo bay as it touched down on the surface of Jinye. He watched as the ramp lowered, the gun-metal gray of the ship's interior giving way to blinding sunlight and swirling dust. He marveled at the foreign taste of the air as he stepped down the ramp, drier and more acrid than Scyros, and shielding his eyes from the sun which looked bigger to him than ever before, as it shined from an unfamiliar position in the sky. He paused at the bottom of the ramp, his own small way of commemorating his first step on foreign soil. Finally taking that step, he smiled as he heard the soft crunch of dirt underneath his feet. He started walking forward, with no destination in particular, taking in the sights and sounds of his new home.

Henry's Used Goods

Will entered the used goods store, his artist portfolio tucked under his left arm and his knapsack slung over his right shoulder. He struggled to keep hold of both while opening the door, entering with more of a ruckus than he intended. Glancing at the counter, he gave an embarrassed nod to the two women.

Will liked the look of the store. The muted light gave it a warmth, and the shelves filled with goods of various color and shape immediately drew his attention. Maybe the proprietor would let him do a picture of this place some time. Strolling alongside the shelves, Will let his eyes wander over the various items. Seemed to have some of everything a person could want, including many things he had never heard of. He picked up a small bottle of liquid that alleged to be a soap of some sort and sniffed it. The scent was nice; floral, Will guessed, but not like any flower he had ever come across. He figured it would make a nice gift for a lady, if he had happened to become acquainted with one that would be accepting of such gifts.

He put the bottle back down somewhat dejectedly. It was more than he could afford at the moment, anyway. Finding his way over to the food items, Will retrieved a protein bar, his purpose for coming into the store in the first place. He had just enough for the bar, which would at least keep him fed for a while if the job at the Heart didn't pan out.

He waited patiently off to the side for the two women to finish their business. Both of them were quite striking, Will had thought. The one behind the counter seemed particularly vivacious, almost glowing in health. The customer, it seemed to Will, was living a harder life, with a weariness that made Will feel somewhat sad. She had a wonderful skin tone and an interesting facial structure. Catching himself staring, Will quickly averted his eyes to the floor. No reason to make a fool of himself this early into his stay.

Auntie Thelma's House o' Pie & Pillows

It was nearly time for the lunch rush. Luckily she had pre-cut all the vegetables and readied the crusts for the few pies on the lunch menu. Today's pie menu was one of Thelma's favorites to make. Two lemon Custards, two Pecan pies with a touch of Rum, Chocolate Fudge with a Peanut Butter crust, and the most important of all her freshly made, hot Apple pie.

Thelma's apple pie was the best in town, or though she had been told. Since she cooked as she went, Thelma often had everything ready when the clock hit 12:30 on the dot. The smell of pies, fried chicken, soup, and other delights wafted through out the medium sized dinning area. Thelma knew that soon the smells would reach the people, and she'd be busy until late afternoon feeding all of her 'children'.


(O.C.C: In the next one I will try and describe the kitchen and layout more.)

Henry's Used Goods

Chari released a breath that she hadn't known she was holding as Judith laid out the money and chocolate on the counter. The chocolate disappeared into her bag at once but she clutched the credits close for a second, relishing the reality of the crisp paper beneath her fingers.

200 credits might seem a paltry sum to some, but to her it was a veritable king's ransom, a measure of wealth that she hadn't seen since leaving Nandi's roof. Not that she hadn't tried to improve her fortunes; when she'd first arrived in Burgesstown Chari had thrown herself upon the tender mercies of Burgess's widow in a last ditch attempt at currying the favor and protection she'd sought, but had come away empty-handed. Juniper Burgess had hardly been willing to attach herself to a woman who'd contributed, however unintentially, to Rance's death, and a whore at that.

Chari was alone.

The opening of the glass factory had been a stroke of fortune- either that or a slow, shameful death sentence handed down by the gods, a sort of final laugh on their part.

Her smile turned inward, a little wistful, as she gave the necklace a final look, remembering the night that Nandi had given it to her and the warm glow of the birthday candles that had lit up the worried, hopeful smile on Petaline's face. Petaline had announced that she was pregnant that very night.

She clutched that feeling tight to her heart...

...and let it go.

"No, I'm good, Judy," she said with a small smile, and tucked her money away in the little pouch strung around her neck. "I'll be heading on home, I guess, but don't be a stranger now. I worry about you sometimes. It's just that-" She stumbled a bit and peeked over her shoulder as the front door opened with a musical jangle, admitting a young man carrying a rucksack and a square bag of some sort.

She went quiet and watched him with a mixture of caution and curiosity as he wandered the store for a little while, until he rose his head and met her gaze. Her pretty eyes had a flinty, dangerous edge as they passed over the stranger once, marking him for any unseen weapons, before returning to his face. "New in town, stranger?" She extended a hand to him and smiled.

Henry's Used Goods

"New in town, stranger?"

Her smile caused Will's face to redden into a blush. If the women at the Heart were half as pretty, his current state of embarrassment was bound to become customary. He took her hand. Worker's hands, he noticed, feeling the calluses on her finger.

"Guess it shows, huh?" He smiled sheepishly. "I'm Will. Will Petros. I'm a-- uh..." He awkwardly motioned to his portfolio. "I paint."

Will internally kicked himself. "Say somethin' articulate, you damned fool. She probably thinks you're afflicted."

"You're the first person I've talked to on Jinye, actually." He smiled good-naturedly at her. "I was just on my way out to--" The whorehouse? Don't tell her that, you idiot. She's gonna think you're a pervert. "--um... to find some work. I paint," he repeated himself, again motioning to the portfolio. "And I do other stuff. Manual labor an' such."

He cleared his throat, looking down. He took a deep breath and laughed nervously. "I'm even capable of stringing two words together, on occasion," he sighed. Composing himself, he looked up and met her gaze. "Let me try again. Pleased to meet you, Miss. I'm Will. And your name is?"

Henry's Used Goods

The hard parenthases creasing the corners of Chari's mouth eased into a smile at Will's easy, if fumbling, nature, but she remained cautious. He looked harmless enough, but appearances could be decieving, as she knew all too well. "Just arrived in Burgesstown my own self a while back," she told him, not seeing the harm in his knowing, "and it ain't half bad. You stay here long enough, it grows on you. Like athlete's foot." She chuckled.

"Let me try again. Pleased to meet you, Miss. I'm Will. And your name is?"

She touched a slim hand to her chest. "Well, my name's Chari," she said, and then moved her hand back to indicate Judith, "and this here's Judith. And it's a charm you meet you, Will, though I'd say only Judy here's job is as glamorous by half as painting. I make glass. Well, actually," she ammended, "I mold them into the casts. I can even keep one, sometimes, if there's an imperfection."

She crossed her arms beneath her chest and eyed Will with some curiosity. "Mind me askin' where you're pointing your nose? We don't get too many in Jinye who ain't bound for either the Burgess homestead or the Heart, and if that don't beat all, you must be the first painter I've ever laid eyes on. Honest to God." Some undefineable emotion thrust up to meet her words at the mention of the Heart, but was quickly extinguished before she could give it a name.

Henry's Used Goods

Judith smiled at the former fancy. "We'll talk about the windows later. I'm in no hurry for 'em and I trust you'll keep your word." Chari was a good customer; she always found a way to pay and had never needed reminding of a standing debt. The credits and chocolate exchanged for the necklace and windows would potentially earn Chari a little store credit, which would surely help her out. Once it was all added up and figured, Judy needed to remember to contact her if that was the case.

As Chari turned away and struck up a conversation with the newcomer, Judith listened in, busying herself behind the counter as she added up the recent exchange. A lot of it depended on the windows. Their size, colors, quality... A comment from the nearby customers caused her focus to swerve sharply away from the scrap of paper before her.

A painter? The blonde's hazel eyes glowed once more as her imagination began to roll, sweeping her into a dance. "What do you paint," she asked at a pause in the conversation.

"Well, my name's Chari and this here's Judith. And it's a charm you meet you, Will, though I'd say only Judy here's job is as glamorous by half as painting."

Will chuckled at that. "Oh, there's nothin' much glamorous about it, Miss Chari. Frivolous, maybe. That's what my pa always said. There wasn't much call for a painter on Scyros, where I'm from. Barely made enough to keep myself fed. That's why I do odd jobs as well."

"Mind me askin' where you're pointing your nose? We don't get too many in Jinye who ain't bound for either the Burgess homestead or the Heart, and if that don't beat all, you must be the first painter I've ever laid eyes on. Honest to God."

Will sighed. There was no sense in lying about it.

"I am bound for the Heart, ma'am. A gentleman where I'm from recommended it to me as a square place of employment. Uh... I mean for the odd jobs an' such. Not..." He stopped before he embarrassed himself further. "Said the mistress of the house was an honest one. And he said it was also a place where I could meet travelers. I'm only there long enough to raise enough money for a lengthy passage. Goal is to set out and see the 'Verse."

"While I still can," he added silently.

"What do you paint," the store's proprietor, Judith, chimed in.

Will's eyes lit up at the questions about his work. "Oh! Pictures, ma'am. Portrait, landscapes, still life. Most anything. I also work with chalk, and I sketch. In fact, I was wonderin' if you'd be amenable for me to paint your store some day. The inside, I mean. It's really beautiful," he looked around admiringly. "And if either of you ladies would care to sit for a portrait some time, I'd... well, I'd be pleasured at the thought of your further company." He looked at them questioningly.

Chari, a woman who'd once walked in an orgy consisting of her mother and what had seemed like half the fancies at the Heart without flinching, flushed shamefacedly. "Afraid I'll have to pass on that, Will," she said through a stiff smile, and averted her eyes. "Can't pay you. Ain't got the cred to spare for naught more than a doodle." She cleared her throat roughly. "Judy here and the folk over at the Heart might be able to, though I can't say for sure about them. Artsy stuff don't come up much around here."

"If you do end up goin', ask for Petaline," she added more quietly, and hugged her purchases closer to her chest. "She's in charge now." Sheer, stubborn pride -it was about as impossible to squash as a cockroach- lanced straight to her spine and forced her head back up even though she'd rather go toe-to-toe with the crew of that Firefly than talk about Petaline so casually. "Don't tell 'em I said so, though," she smiled crookedly. "I want it to be a surprise."

"Afraid I'll have to pass on that, Will. Can't pay you. Ain't got the cred to spare for naught more than a doodle."

"I-- I apologize for the inquiry, Miss Chari. I didn't mean to--"

Will suddenly grew red from embarrassment. Jinye wasn't a Core world, but forcing the woman to bring up her economic situation probably wasn't acceptable even here.

"What I mean to say is, if you were willin' to sit for a pencil sketch, it would cost neither of us aught but time. And time is the one thing I can spare at the moment."

He let the irony of the statement slip by without a passing thought.

"Anyways, it's a sight more presentable than a doodle. The offer extends to you as well, Miss Judy." Will could only guess at her marital status, and he wasn't sure if it was more polite to assume that she was married or not. He hoped he had guessed correctly.

"If you do end up goin', ask for Petaline; she's in charge now. Don't tell 'em I said so, though," she smiled crookedly. "I want it to be a surprise."

"I'll keep your confidence, Miss Chari. Petaline was indeed the name I was given." Will stopped himself before asking her how she might know the woman. He was thankful that on some occasions, his brain was able to catch up with his mouth before speaking.

OOC: Time progress

Inside her room it should have been dark, but the barest flicker of light from the factory came to the mansion and struggled through the lace curtains to pattern the ceiling with faint designs.

Lying in her oversized bed, the synth-down mattress imported all the way from Sihnon, too soft beneath her, Juniper Burgess alternately clenched her fingers into fists, then relaxed her fingers before stretching them flat against the comforter. Clench, release, spread, clench, release spread.

Her heart beat.

Her hands moved.


"Damn it, Roxanne. She's not even my kid!"

"You married me! You said you'd take care of us!"

The teen-ager cringing in her room, listening through the wall to the ruins of family as her world came apart.

"I wish she'd never been born!"


Clench, release, spread, clench, release spread.

And she hated the lace curtains. And she hated the light. And she hated this pisspoor town that Rance had brought her to, claimed she would learn to love.


"It's a whole moon, and I own most of it. You can be a queen."

A queen. A heady promise to a society belle who's lack of importance in the world was overtaken only by her lack of importance at home.

A queen on Jinye, a million miles from the family who tolerated her, but never loved her. She left them all behind.


Clench, release, spread, clench, release spread.

Love.

What a pathetic excuse for all of the misery that there is in the world. She had determined never to have it in hers. She had cared for Rance, but even that had paled in time with his misogyny and his cheating. But his queen she remained, and they had been partners matched in business and greed if nothing else.

And he had left it all to that whores brat.

Oh a stipend for her. And the town house. Everything else was for that child of his blood, the one she could never give him.

Never wanted to give him.

Because to give him a child would have meant giving herself a child.

A child to love.


OOC: ADMIN PLOT-PROGRESS COMING

Saturday: NOON

Auntie Thelma's Dining Room

"Hallelujia!" Reverend Baxter Barton, better known to most in these parts as The Travelin' Preacher Man, pushed back his chair with a satisfied exclamation and a clap of his well manicured hands. Black hair, slicked with oil, framed a face that seemed harder and darker than his easy-going ways would seem to advocate, but the hardness lent him an advantage in the pulpit, gave his sermons an edge few could compete with.

Bax's immaculate black pressed suit complete with priestly collar -(one of the advantages of being a travelin' preacher man was that one only needed one good suit and one set of travelin' clothes)- set the demeanor for a day that promised much fortune.

Not only had Auntie Thelma filled him with an excellent breakfast, and an excellent luncheon, but today God's Work was taking him to the Heart of Gold for the joyous celebration of a wedding. And weddings meant food, and drink and plenty of opportunity for the spreading of the Lord's Word! (and the spreading of those lovely ladies at the Heart.)

Briefly, Bax wondered about the strange ways of the Lord, that he was asking Baxter to perform a marriage between a woman of whom he had intimate carnal knowledge and a man he'd once happily engaged in sacred meditative drug use with. Ah, the ways of the Lord are strange, strange indeed. And who was he, a mere servant, to question them?

"Auntie Thelma, that was the best lunch I've eaten in near...well, since last time I was around this way." He beamed down at her, "You are truly an angel come to earth. God bless you, daughter!"

Tilting his round flat hat upon his head, he gave her a quick bow and left the Inn to find his horse saddled and waiting, "Thank you, son!"

The boy took the small coin offered, "Don't mention it, Reverend B.!"

Reverend B. Bax paused and looked down at the boy. "Reverend B! I like that! Sounds full of potential, doesn't it? Like Reverend Be.. Can be anything one puts their mind to if the Lord's willing. Can be! Reverend BE doin' the Lords Work!"

The boy didn't quite seem to know what to make of it, glinting up at Bax into the midday sun. "If you say so, sir."

Bax nudged his gelding, not the shiniest horse running, but definitely the sturdiest, towards the road out of town, his laughter ringing merrily through the streets, "I do, young man! I surely do!"

Still laughing, he rode out and down the lonely road to the Heart of Gold.

SHERIFF'S OFFICE

Luckilly, the office was outfitted with a small kitchen area, allowing Dawson to prep some brunch.

When the bored and still bruised Miller would awake, he'd find a cup of coffee and a small plate with eggs and toast waiting at the front of his cell. And when he'd glance over to the main desk, he'd see the Sheriff, legs up on the table's edge, crossed, and another cup of freshly-brewed steaming coffee in his hands, resting at his stomach.

Yates heard the stirring from behind him, as Miller drifted across from the small cot to bite down on the semi-decent-tasting food. "'Still no outstanding warrants in any other systems. Maybe you could save me the trouble and tell me exactly where you're wanted, so we can speed this up some." His ice-blue eyes didn't drift from the doorway, watching the plain and slow foot traffic of Burgesstown outside.

Someone had managed to leave a wedding invitation under the door to the office early this morning, which took up some of Dawson's attention now as it sat upon his desk. He doubted they'd want him there. Plus, he felt he could Miller could use an ear to help the time pass on by a little smoother.

Miller swallowed the last bit of egg, his honey-gold eyes considering the sheriff through the bars.

Head tilted, he slid the plate aside with hint of finality, "Sheriff, I'm not meanin' anything by this, so don't take wrong, but do you maybe suppose, if there aren't any warrants, that I'm not wanted by the law anywhere?"

"Well, except here."

A smile creased his weary face, "And you all must want me an awful lot keeping me here for weeks. " His hard strong form sprawled back on the hard narrow bunk, propped on his elbows, head raised to meet the sheriff's eye, "Gotta say, Sheriff, I'm feeling all kinds of loved, how much you want me."