Log in

No account? Create an account


What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

. . . Yes.

Eliot Spencer vdistinctive
Previous Entry Share Next Entry
A secondary simulation within the matrix, Wednesday
Eliot found himself gripping a set of reigns as hard as he'd just been gripping a man's shirt. He was on horseback, at night, on a dirt road through the middle of a busy and haphazard looking old west town, surrounded by other people on horses.

"You were sayin'," an older man on the horse to his left said. "You were sayin' about this man's story."

Eliot twisted in the saddle, looking behind him. It didn't make any more sense that way. "What."

"I said you were sayin' about this man's story. About that white family getting hacked and scalped in the woods."

"I -- I really wasn't," Eliot said, looking back over at the man.

"You feelin' alright there, friend?" Another man, this one on foot by the door to what seemed to be a rather busy saloon, said. "You're not goin' to fucking pass out and die on us now when you're all just gettin' set to ride out and investigate this cocksucker's claims to an Indian attack."

"What," Eliot said again. He blinked and reached up to adjust the hat he only just realized he was wearing. "Indian attack. . . ."

The men on horseback nodded. "Just been reported," said the man on the horse to his right.

Eliot blinked a few more times, looking around, and adjusted his hat again.

"The fella's story on this don't hold water," the man on the horse to his right hissed, like a prompter at a grade school play.

Eliot stared at him. The man nodded.

"The, uh." Eliot cleared his throat. "The fella's story -- on this don't hold water."

The man on the horse to his right nodded. "No, it don't."

And the other two men on horses started riding off.

Eliot stared after them a moment before spurring his own horse forwards. "That's -- Wild Bill. Wild Bill fucking Hickok. . . ."

[and Eliot has been zapped into Deadwood. Because like I would throw this guy into anything but a western. . . .]



And now there was Parker. Rolling to her feet and brushing dust off herself, then looking around in total confusion.

"...what the..." Wait. That was. "Eliot!!!"

Eliot twisted in the saddle again, holding his hat on as his horse picked up speed to try to catch up with the others. "Wh -- Parker?!"

The street was extremely dark, what with there not being any electricity. He thought he saw a familiar shape back there, but it was hard to tell.

The horses all picked up speed again, even as Eliot tried to rein his in.

"Ma'am," said the man outside the saloon. "I do not think it's wise for you to be out for a constitutional at this particular godfor-fucking-saken hour, if you pardon my improper word choice. Perhaps you'd best come inside for a constitutional beverage."

"A what kind of beverage?" Parker asked, not having watched as many Westerns with Eliot as she had space operas with Hardison. She put her hands around her mouth, and then noticed she was wearing a red-and-black knee-length dress with high heels.

There was a feather in her hair.


Eliot nearly fell off his horse trying to turn around and stare back at Parker and rein the damn thing in from its trot at the same time.

"There a problem?" Wild Bill asked.

"My partner --" Eliot started. The other man raised his eyebrows.


"I'm saying my partner," Eliot started again.

". . . Which is me," said the man.

"I -- goddammit, man, there is a woman screaming back there!"

"Due respect to your feelings of fucking chivalry, Spencer," Wild Bill said. "But that woman back there is surrounded by enough cocksuckers in the saloon that she's more than likely to survive the night. Any survivors of this Indian attack may not be able to say the same thing."

Eliot was very confused. Maybe this was a dream? It made about as much sense as one. "Parker!" he shouted. "Parker hang on! I'm coming back!" And he finally wrestled his horse around and started it cantering back towards the center of town, Wild Bill and his supposed 'partner' hard on his heels.

"Woman, get back to work," yelled the barkeep.

Parker didn't even ignore him, because the idea that he was yelling at her never crossed her mind.

"Ma'am, I do absofuckinglutely apologize for your dismay, but I believe that shelter is a better--"

"I am waiting for Eliot. And I am not going anywhere until he gets here!"

A very large cowboy with a ten-gallon hat approached. "Sister, I'mm a take you over my knee." And he moved to pick her up.

...this couldn't end well.

Wild Bill and the other guy caught up much faster than they had any right to on horseback. Eliot had done a lot of horseback riding over the years, but he'd never had to dodge other people while riding towards a woman he knew was afraid of horses in the pitch dark. He leaned away from one grasping hand, over balanced, and pitched sideways off the horse, tumbling to the ground and barely rolling out of the way of the thundering hooves.

"PARKER!" he shouted. "MOVE!"

Parker did in fact move.

She ducked down between the legs of the guy who wanted to pick her up, kicked upward along the way-- eliciting many more high-falutin' cuss words-- popped up like a jack-in-the-box, and used the first guy's boot knife on the second guy--

--well, she would have, if she hadn't suddenly been sucked into a tear.

Eliot propped himself up on his elbows, staring hard and panting for breath. "Parker?" The tear was already fading. "PARKER!" He shoved himself to his feet and staggered two steps forward -- and was blocked by two interchangable bearded men in hats.

"Trixie!" someone shouted. "Get the doc!"

A blonde woman -- not Parker, Parker had just vanished what the hell was going on here?! -- nodded and rushed off, and several pairs of hands pulled Eliot to his feet. "It's alright, Mr. Spencer," someone said. "You took a bit of a fall there, but you got her."

Eliot jerked away from them. "No I didn't! She's gone! She fought off that -- and then --"

"Sure you did." The man smiled at him and patted his arm, then nodded to something over Eliot's shoulder. "Ya see?"

The guy who claimed to be Eliot's partner walked by holding a small blonde girl wrapped in a blanket.

Eliot let himself sink back down to the ground, and people started shouting for the doctor again.

What the everloving fuck was going on here?