@strcys Asked: "I Hope You Like Spicy Food!" For Will !!! Hi !!!

arthur morgan tag drop.

     surprise flickers over arthur's face immediately, attention shooting back over in time to watch the way hope's eyes expand. her fingertips brushing over plush, pink lips as if it would help REIN in what she just said. but it was in the air now - hanging in much the way cigar smoke does. heavy, thick, intrusive.

     arthur blinks once, twice, shifting in his seat on the third. he had an inkling about how hope might've felt about this whole thing - he ain't like dutch, but arthur's come to know miss hope baxter a little by now. knows when she's being truthful & when she's trying to spare his feelings. when she's genuine or teasing.

     ❝ so you don't wanna marry this guy, ❞ arthur says bluntly. reinforcing what she just admitted by mistake. not allowing it to be shuffled under the rug in a way hope will want to do.

     he spins the whiskey in his glass, mouth tight & jaw set. a small temptation rises in arthur's gut to point out that, CONTRARY to her question about doing anything else with his life, he ain't the one being pushed into a marriage. he had the freedom to marry for love, if love ever found him.

            ( it did. long ago. & it was these same damn expectations that kept her from him. )

     arthur lets out a long, IMPATIENT sigh. ❝ if you don't wanna get married, then don't ! what - daddy won't be happy ? seems to me you should put 'urself first. ❞

❝  --  no  !  ❞  hope  lets  out  a  small  half-hearted  laugh  compulsively  ,  to  match  his  energy  more  than  anything  else  .  she  continues  ,  ❝  i  mean  ,  not  unless  you  wanted  to  be  somethin'  𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚  .  ❞  she  tilts  her  head  to  the  side  in  evaluation  of  his  reaction  ,  brows  furrowing  together  .  it  surprises  her  how  quickly  he  dismisses  the  idea  that  he  might  ever  have  been  anything  else  in  life  .  he's  smart  ,  much  smarter  than  he  gives  himself  any  credit  for  anyway  .  he's  got  plenty  of  skills  applicable  to  careers  outside  of  gunslinging  &  playing  muscle  for  the  van  der  linde  gang  .  she's  seen  it  .  .  .  but  he  really  doesn't  ,  does  he  ?  that  thought  weighs  down  her  sweet  smile  -  noticeably  drooping  into  a  pout  .

as  he  surveys  the  room  ,  hope  takes  the  opportunity  to  briefly  study  his  features  -  she  notes  his  scars  ,  the  lines  around  his  eyes  ,  their  color  .  she  wonders  what  those  eyes  have  seen  ;  she  wonders  how  they  see  𝑯𝑬𝑹  .

as  arthur  refocuses  ,  leaning  in  that  little  bit  closer  ,  she  draws  in  a  quick  sharp  breath  -  gaze  flickering  toward  his  lips  for  a  single  beat  .  while  she  tries  to  keep  her  expression  neutral  ,  kicking  herself  internally  for  being  so  easily  𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅  -  she  can't  hide  the  flush  that  blooms  across  her  freckles  like  wildflowers  .

her  attention  successfully  captured  ,  she  listens  to  what  he  says  intently  -  heart  dropping  to  &  shattering  on  the  filthy  floor  .  it  takes  her  a  moment  to  process  it  all  ,  first  the  briefly  flippant  description  of  his  parents  ,  then  .  .  .  'even  worse  man  than  me  .  .  .'  that  admission  alone  floors  her  into  momentary  silence  ,  a  rarity  for  her  &  an  𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑽𝑬  feat  on  arthur's  part.

before  she  can  come  up  with  something  𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚  apologetic  to  say  ,  he  has  already  moved  onto  his  question  -  further  throwing  her  off  .

❝  i  .  .  .  me  ?  ❞  she  blinks  up  at  him  ,  still  recalibrating  from  the  sheer  mental  whiplash  .  her  sufficiently  inebriated  mind  struggling  to  keep  up  .  ❝  uh  .  .  .  hm  ,❞  she  scrambles  blindly  for  something  ,  𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮  to  say -  &  so  the  truth  spills  out with an incredulous giggle .  ❝  well  i  wouldn't  be  getting  married  ,  that's  for  sure  .  .  .  ❞  the  moment  she  hears  herself  azure  eyes  blow  wide  ,  lips  flatting  into  a  thin  line  ,  fingers  pressing  loosely  to  her  lips  in  shock  .

❝  -  i  don't  know  why  i  said  that  ,  ❞  maybe  the  drinks  were  a  𝒃𝒂𝒅  𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂  after  all  .  .  .

SCOTT BAKULA as Capt. Jonathan Archer in Star Trek: Enterprise “Broken Bow”

     ❝ pleasure, ❞ thomas replies easily. the initial SHOCK of seeing hope had begun to wane, so it was a little easier to relax & loosen up & remember his cover. there was still a worm of worry in the back of his mind - encountering someone who knew the real will riker so well & may very well see through his facade. ❝ stopping by for a visit while awaiting transport to risa. ❞

     the explanation tumbled out in an easy, practiced way. thomas brings his drink up to take a sip. lets his gaze sweep the patrons. repositions his feet as he leans against the bar. ANYTHING to distract himself from truly meeting hope's eyes.

          maybe then she won't be able to read him. maybe then he can make himself FORGET how she used to look at the real will riker.

     ❝ you know doctor crusher - show the slightest signs of stress & she drags you on the transporter pad herself for leave. ❞

hope almost turns on her heel to high-tailed it back out of quark's the moment she catches sight of those 𝑭𝑹𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑳𝒀 recognizable broad shoulders . lulled into the security of her predictable routine here on the station - as predictable as it gets on deep space nine , anyway . . . will's presence is enough to jolt her right out of auto-pilot .

surely he would have had the forethought to let her know he was visiting . . . or wouldn't he ? it's not like she lays any more claim to the place than anyone else , but it is 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 now , & he knows that . as they say , curiosity kills the cat .

so , she finds herself floating over to get the 𝑨𝑾𝑲𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑫 part over with - & perhaps to stick her freckled nose into why he would be here SO suddenly , with no warning .  ( not that he owes her a warning or anything , but admittedly it would have been nice . ) she doesn't miss the way his brows furrow slightly . . . surely , he should have expected this encounter - right ?

𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 , her racing thoughts all melt away when he smiles , & it's like meeting him on the enterprise for the first time all over again .

❝ well enough i suppose , ❞ the corners of her lips lift naturally , her voice carrying the 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑻𝑯 of familiarity . she continues with a light chuckle , ❝ & as you've read , very busy . . . speaking of - what brings you all the way out here , stranger ? ❞

i want a ‘you’ve been dating my brother, but he clearly doesn’t appreciate you, so ive come to save the day even though i’m entirely sure i’d be worse for you’ kind of plot.

     arthur's never . . . well, talking to women has never been a strong point of his. nor speaking in general, apart from little jabs that only serve to raise hackles & start brawls. a STRANGE shortcoming from a man raised by dutch van der linde & hosea matthews - two men whom arthur swears are hiding silver tongues behind smirking lips.

     his head lowers as hope moves past him, now addressing her pretty little mare in an echoed tease of his own words. a snort comes from him, head wobbling in DISBELIEF, before turning to follow her to where their horses are hitched.

     ❝ if we keep good time, should be there in just a couple weeks, ❞ arthur says as he starts rummaging through a saddlebag. ❝ ridin' all day, stayin' in small towns where no bounty hunters might not think to look. might even have to ROUGH it some nights. ❞

     a lantern is pulled from the leather pouch, which arthur flicks on to push away the nighttime blackness. the firelight, kept low & soft, dances across arthur's face to show his DEEP scowl. brows pulled tight together above a sharp, scrutinizing blue gaze. jaw clenched beneath a thick cover of facial hair that arthur didn't bother to clean up before taking this job.

                      ❝ that okay with you, princess ? ❞

her  approach  is  slow  ,  reluctant  -  but  not  for  the  reasons  he  may  think  .  what  arthur  perceives  as  the  expectant  steps  of  an  eager  bride  might  as  well  be  a  death  march  to  miss  baxter  -  &  yet  ,  she  still  does  her  best  to  offer  him  a  friendly  smile  at  the  conclusion  of  her  approach  .  this  is  usually  what  is  expected  of  her  ,  of  course  ,  to  be  nothing  but  docile  &  demure  .  a  mask  she's  grown  comfortable  hiding  behind  ,  one  that  she  𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔  will  make  a  good  first  impression  .  they  will  be  traveling  together  for  a  long  while  ,  after  all  -  she  would  like  to  set  a  positive  tone  for  the  journey  ahead  .

those  desires  are  quickly  dashed  .  her  lips  &  heart  both  drop  as  he  takes  that  warning  step  forward  ,  sky  blue  eyes  widening  &  chin  lifting  while  attempting  to  approximate  where  to  meet  his  gaze  draped  in  shadow  .  despite  his  𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮  frame  &  no-nonsense  attitude  ,  she  does  not  wilt  in  response  ,  choosing  to  hold  her  ground  in  spite  of  the  way  her  heart  picks  up  its  tempo  as  his  words  sink  in  .

she  knows  all  of  this  already  ,  her  father  may  not  have  afforded  her  all  of  the  details  -  but  she  has  been  informed  of  the  𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕  things  .  he  had  been  reluctant  to  send  her  off  with  someone  with  mr  .  morgan's  infamous  reputation  ,  but  they  had  been  left  with  little  choice  &  no  time  to  be  all  that  picky  about  it  .  anyway  ,  a  ruthless  protector  is  exactly  what  she  needs  in  the  face  of  those  who  wish  to  harm  her  .

arthur  doesn't  surprise  hope  at  all  in  his  initial  assessment  of  who  she  might  be  ,  it's  what  she's  used  to  &  she  makes  no  attempt  to  argue  -  𝑯𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹  ,  there  is  a  small  displeased  furrow  to  her  dark  brows  before  she  responds  .

❝  he  told  me  enough  ,  ❞  her  voice  is  light  &  distant  ,  switching  up  tactics  placing  a  wall  of  aloofness  between  them  .  to  his  conditions  ,  she  gives  a  small  dutiful  nod  ,  features  𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈  with  a  curt  ,  ❝  fine  .  ❞  she  moves  past  his  imposing  form  ,  choosing  to  focus  on  unhitching  her  horse's  reins  &  offering  some  gentle  affection  to  the  animal  before  they  take  off  .  as  if  addressing  her  trusted  mare  rather  than  arthur  ,  she  continues  with  a  new  &  lightly  indignant  edge  to  her  tone  ❝  -  we'll  be  sure  to  keep  the  frolicking  to  a  minimum  ,  won't  we  girl  ?  ❞

jon dips his head in a single nod to acknowledge her words, though he's heard them from her before. his reply was normally to ASSURE her it wasn't a problem & they enjoyed having her here.

instead, he tosses the alien-fruit back into the container. ❝ making a good meal out of these is all the repayment we need. ❞

jon continues winding through container after container - only stopping to occasionally SKIM through a manifest report here & there. his focus was mainly on ellie. ❝ though, i hope you don't feel like you need to be helping out. i'm not going to maroon you somewhere because you aren't preparing dinner for us. ❞

｡･:*:･ﾟ🐬 BODY RAISES SLIGHTLY ... onto the balls of her feet , so that she can look into the containers as well. a bright smile crosses her lips as she pulls out a cucumber looking veggie - blue eyes look up at jon and her head nods , before she focuses back on the cucumber like food. ❝ these are great. ❞ chef had indeed ended up trusting her enough with the shopping list - just a little test. ❝ it's okay , captain. ❞ ellie replied , placing the cucumber back into the container and standing flat on her feet again. ❝ chef and i had a talk the other day. i'm not trying to push him out of his own kitchen. ❞ there was a laugh. ❝ but i don't want to just sit around in my room doing nothing , if i can do something to repay you guys for helping me. ❞

     ❝ you got happy egg money ? ❞

     despite his SNARKY response, stan leans over to pick up a carton. it was the brand he always used to roll his eyes at, believing only a sucker would cop out the extra few bucks for them. stan's tempted to put them back & try to convince mabel to choose a different kind.

     her eyes BEAM at him from over the side of the carton. the eggs go into the cart with a groan.

     ❝ these 'cakes better blow me away, kid. ❞

mabel hardly notices the stares, she's far too caught up in her own technicolor little world - one where REAL eggs are an absolute necessity! ❝ c'mon grunkle stan, i wanna give great uncle ford the complete authentic mabelcakes experience - a chance of eggshells in every bite ! ❞ she's joking - mostly .

hopping off her grunkle-powered chariot to inspect the options, she lands on a carton which boasts of free-roam pastures, heartier yolks . . . & a heftier price tag than the rest. ❝ can we get this kind ? please ? ❞ she points excitedly to the idyllic images on the packaging, ❝ look how happy these chickens are, that means happy eggs, happy mabelcakes, happy everyone.❞

the girl beams up at stan with an earnesty that would seem questionable coming from any other kid - but this is mabel pines , wholeheartedly wanting to go the extra mile for the people she cares about most. how could he say no to that ?

open to mutuals !

                ❝ i heard a shot. you okay ? ❞

          joel has his revolver at the ready. eyes scanning about - he hears nothing now, but he's been jumped one too many times to grow COMPLACANT at the absence of noise.

          & sure, his tone is clipped & stern. it's a hot summer day & they should've been back in jackson two hours ago. but he stills takes a moment to make sure he isn't returning ALONE.