Last Deal

Shack, shack, shack

     "Y'know, sleeping that much oughtta be bad f'your health" The young, smiling blond man said with a sigh, poking his sleeping partner in their cabin. "List ain't growin' any shorter if all you do is sleep all day, no it ain't."

     "Shut up, Az. And if you poke me again, I'm shooting your finger." The other man in the cabin said, not at all happy to have his sleep disturbed.

     "Geez, okay, grumpy."

Shack, shack, shack

     "Excuse me...Mr. Cabinmaster, when do we arrive in Hartford?" The young man inquired the Cabinmaster as he went through the hallway. He pulled a watch from his pocket, and announced:

     "Still a good 5 hours to go, lad. In a hurry?" He raised an eyebrow at the young man.

     "Oh, not me, no sir. M'friend here, on the other hand...He got a job of utmost importance, y'see."

     "What kind of would require such haste?"

     "Let's just say my friend over here got his life on the line." The young man chuckled.

     "Well, may God be on his side. Enjoy your trip, and excuse me." The Cabinmaster said and walked away.

     "Oh, sir, no sir." The young man said and laughed to himself. "That's the one thing m'friend over here ain't got."

     Another small city in the middle of nowhere, there wasn't much that could be said about Hartford. Even the Steam Station, which had been put together on a whim by Samuel Colt, was but a half-house with tracks passing through it.

     "Ain't nothing like a lawless piece of town for us to make some noise, eh Matt? What'ye say we hit the inn for some very needed...warmth?" Az suggested as they alighted the train.

     "Az..." Matt sighed. "Let's just get the job done, okay?"

     "Yer the boss, chief. Me here just think ye could as well have some fun, y'know? We need info on the target, and the best place to find info on crooks is the inn. Or the saloon, if ye fancy a drink."

     "To the saloon, then." Matt said with a crisp, slightly irritated voice.

     "Damn it, M. Don't ye ever miss the embrace of a lady? The warmth of another body, the exhilaration of doing something wrong?"

     "Az, after 120 years I'd hope you would understand my situation."

     "As if! I can't. Yer race has proven time and time againthat yer a bunch of selfish mongrels driven by lust and greed. Hell, some of you would kill yer very own mothers for a stupid piece of shiny gold. And then there's you. I mean, 200 years of misery, of...me! All for a girl? Human stupidity at its best, if ye ask me here." Az raged on and on in a rather angry tone.

     "Well..." Matt began, in a calm fashion. "I like the job. Killing some sods dumb enough to betray Nessa is enjoyable."

     "Grim" Az shivered.

     "As fate would have it." Matt said with a crooked smile. "Let's get going, we have a dastard to hunt."

     "But..."

     "Az."

     "The inn..."

     "Saloon."

     "Ladies..."

     "Now."

     "Fine. But you are paying the rounds."

     "Whatever."