"Hey Sam! Come on out and tell your bouncer we're all friends."

Don’t reckon I’m gonna be able ta do that, Kid, Dash smirked inwardly as his finger touched the trigger, how’s ‘bout ya come in here an’ get me, instead?
The Avenger coughed a few times and Sam was sure that one of the fuzzy shapes he’d been aiming at had taken at least one of the rounds… “That’s right,” he mumbled, “eat it ya chwen joo.” His consciousness wavered, again, making the Avenger too heavy to lift again and his own body too heavy to move. That was a bad thing seeing as how he’d only managed to plug the one feller and now the other one was swinging his way with a hog-leg.

C’mon, Wyatt, Dash prayed as his gaze was consumed by the abyss-promising blackhole of the shotgun’s barrel, Don’ lemme die here, puhn yoh… Not wit’ them ruttin’ purplebellies skirtin’ th’ place…
“Chwee ni duh,” he spat out loud to the man behind the shotgun; a final act of defiance before his brainpan was peeled open and used to paint the floor.

CRACK!
Suddenly, the shotgun disappeared, leaving only Jake’s blurred shape framed in his wavering sight.

P-TOW!
Fuzzy Jake started dancing… looked like an alamand left… and spun to face the bank’s front window.

BLAP-BLAP-BLAP!!!
And there went Fuzzy Jake, right outta the world doin’ the herky-jerky.

“Gorram but I ruttin’ love that Kid,” Dash swooned just as limbo crashed over him. His head thudded back to the floor a split second after Fuzzy Jake, plumb exhausted from doin’ the bullet boogy, did.

“Well, ni how, bao bei,” Dash murmured as if dreaming.

~*~*~*~
“Just lie still, Sam dear,” Willow cooed softly as she dropped the last of the pilot’s ruined clothes to the floor, “and tell me where it hurts.”

“Hurts ruttin’ ever’where, Miss Will,” Dash grinned in reply as the delectable doc leaned over him to more closely inspect his wounds, “My gorram head, my gorram body, hell, I think I done broke my ruttin’ innards ta boot… Ta mah duh but you smell good!”

Her smile lit up the entire room and he was pretty sure that he heard angels singing as Willow’s delicate fingers feather across his temple and entwined in his scruffy hair. “I’m sure it does hurt everywhere,” she purred, her sweet lips pressing to his forehead in a lingering kiss. “Does that help your head,” she asked, smiling seductively as she pulled away just a bit.

“Uh huh,” Sam nodded as the doc’s fingers slid down his cheek and along his neck.

“Where else?”

“Right… right here,” Sam pointed at a scrape on his neck, just above his collar bone, and was rewarded by having Willow’s lips dance gingerly over the injury. He shivered with pleasure and couldn’t keep his hands from reaching for her delicate frame.

She looked up at him and his own fingers found the curve of one luscious hip and, almost tentatively, slid around to caress that lovely silk wrapped bottom… “And where else,” she breathed, sliding onto the bed with him.

“Here,” Dash touched a bruise on his chest and Willow’s lips followed, evoking a rumbling moan from the pilot. His hands danced over her as her kisses rained down on more than just the obvious injuries.

“Better,” she asked, her breath hot and sweet against his skin.

“Darlin’,” he whispered in reply as his hands slithered across the small of her back, then teased their way up along her ribcage allowing his fingers to slip underneath the cropped silken blouse, “I ain’t feelin’ no pain but that as is in my nethers, now.”

The blouse came away with surprisingly little effort and Sam wasted no time in tossing the gossamer garment aside. His hands found the top edge of her skirt then and, as he shimmied the thing down passed her hips, her mouth found his…

“I can fix that, too,” she promised, leaving Dash licking his lips in the wake of what he reckoned had to be the most toe-curling kiss he’d ever had.

Sweet Jesus, don’ lemme be dreamin’!
((OOC: SQUEEEEEEEERRRRRRRKKKKK!!! Looks like a decent place to put on the breaks to me… Probably not the Willow we all know and love, of course, but Sam’s dreamin’… Funny how when any of my characters get the mi tian gohn kicked out of ‘em, they always go out with a smile on their lips.))

Fenris sat back into the driver’s seat, the uzi he had just used to deliver a killing blow to the man holding Brigit, feeling like it weighed a ton in his hand. With the slow down in his adrenaline rush he could feel that the pain from his wound was more pronounced then before.

As curious as anyone would be about the pain he reached his hand to feel the area in question and came away with it covered in red sticky goo, clearly his blood, but more then Wolf had ever seen before.

With the arrival of a large crowd, including JW, the bank owner followed closely by his wife and what had to be half the town Fenris could not help himself but feel very, very tired and so closed his eyes and tried to sleep..............

The Colt smoked in his hand. He hadn't counted on Bridget making like she'd had a spasm--she'd looked plum fit to be tied by his estimation, and that oversight had nearly cost him his life! That wasn't necessarily what pulled the possum's tail as much as he could only imagine what would have happened to his crew had he wound up bein' fit for a pine box. Now that--that set his blood to boiling! Angry as he was at his own foolish pride and what it had nearly cost him, Wyatt's response to JW's question gaze was all but non-existent.

Dropping a hand to Fenris's uninjured shoulder, Wyatt muttered a simple, "Thanks, Wolf. Now hang on fer a bit longer," as he dropped from the damaged mule and strode quickly towards the bank interior.

He hadn't noticed the hurt that had been put on the other two gunmen, but subconciously--the way a person who is right used to combat has a certain sense of awareness about them in the midst of things. What he did know was that he still hadn't seen Sam, and that concerned him.

"Asher," Wyatt said calmly as he thumbed rounds into the Colt's cylinder after flicking the empty shells to the road. "Cover me."

Stepping up to the blasted bank door, Wyatt angled his way in so as to present as little a target as possible to whomever it was still waiting inside. His cool gaze registered the destruction, the positions of the bodies, and Sam.

"Bloody hell, Sam!" It was a statement, a remark with little inflection, though Wyatt's heart was racing at the bloody mess that was his friend. Seeing him like that reminded Sung of that day years back when they'd nearly killed each other. Maybe it was the sight of Dash's bloody visage that brought back those memories, or maybe it was the fact that he appeared to be dying, and when faced with death people tended to recall events. Frankly, Wyatt didn't care.

After casting one more quick look about, Sung took one step back and peered out the door ready to call Asher in to help tote the pilot back home when he saw Willow.

"Willow!" Wyatt waved his left hand in the air to catch her attention; his right still holding the Colt level and ready just in case. "Sam's here, and in need of your tender care. Quick, Woman! He looks like he's about done waitin'."

Wyatt Sung cared a great deal about his crew. Each and every one of them was something special to him, but he couldn't stand around and watch Willow battle Death for Sam's life, and knowing that Fenris was hurt more'n a bit as well didn't sit well with him even a little bit. The instant the man had officially joined the crew he'd become family.

Spotting the town doctor, Wyatt quickly determined that it wouldn't sit well if he directed the doc to one of his men when one of the city locals was in bleeding on the floor. Besides, it was unlucky to be selfish...

"One in there for you too, Doc," Wyatt drawled as he stepped away from the door and caught sight of the man's doctorin' bag.

Wyatt's mind needed something to keep it occupied while Willow saved Sam's life. That's just the way he operated. Glancing about at the crowd he spotted what was left of his hat lying near the mule. Eve had given him that hat...a second or two after spotting it, wyatt had snatched from the ground and was inspecting it as he stepped his way to where the other Ludlow lay dying (OOC: Making the assumption he's still alive.)

"I thought I'd seen you somewhere before," Wyatt crouched next to him, his expression cold as he looked the dying man in the eyes. "You look like your brother--got that same reckless way 'bout you where other's lives are concerned.

"Funny thing, Ludlow. I put your brother down same as we put you down. Guess you two really were somethin' of a pair after all."

Wyatt remained impassive as he made to rise, his eyes locked with the man who'd caused them so much recent grief. Then he paused, "Tell me somethin', Ludlow. Why was you're brother lookin' fer a Sam when I split his brainpan?"

(OOC: Assuming no answer, or that he expires...)

"The least you could do after all this damage is confirm wth me that you ain't got no more brothers..."

Finally rising from his crouch, Wyatt turned an eye towards the bank hoping to see Willow coming out on Sam's arm. When it didn't happen just yet he turned his gaze back to Bridget and JW.

"You OK ma'am?" he intoned in his same deadpan drawl. Receiving his answer, Wyatt raised an eyebrow to JW, while rolling his ruined hat in his hand. "I trust your ship is OK. Ventin' as she was, you had us a might concerned--ain't that right, Asher?"

As the horse sped into town, Willow settled into the rhythm of it’s gallop, swaying gently in the arms that held her firmly, but respectfully. If the horse stumbled, the doctor’s arm would tighten, momentarily, then loosen again to a secure, impersonal tension. Still, Willow took some comfort in the male warmth enclosing her as she envisioned the carnage ahead.

“I hope you don’t think me presumptuous, Miss Willow,” the doc’s voice interrupted her grim thoughts from above and behind,” but I am not as fast or flexible as I was in my youth…if there are many casualties, I would take it as a kindness if you would take triage and call me to the most serious of cases. I would hate to have someone in need perish because of my old bones. “

The words were gracious, his tone even and polite, but Willow was Companion-trained, and the tension in his body told her that he was lying. He was afraid of something ahead, and was more than just the prospect of injured townfolk. Willow controlled her own instinctive recoil away from him and twisted enough to look back and up at him. Her suspicions were confirmed by the tight line of his jaw as he gazed forward, eyes on the way ahead instead of at her.

“My good doctor,” she responded, “you are too modest for a man who was a-horse before I could blink and pulled me up here as if I were no more than a bit of a feather!” She tossed her head coquettishly before continuing in a more serious tone. “Triage makes sense, however, so we know what we are facing before we bend our efforts to one person. Hopefully, such caution won’t be needed.”

She swallowed any further words and her heart started beating painfully hard as they reached the bank. The windows were blown out, there were black scorch marks on the ground as if a ship had launched and most of her beloved crew were out of the mule pulled up in front. Asher and Wyatt looked fine enough, but Fenris’ shoulder bloomed the deadly roses of gunfire, and he gripped his arm tightly to staunch the flow of blood.

A man lay sprawled near the doorway, also showing signs of having been shot, though more accurately, possibly fatally. Brigit was close by, picking herself up from the ground, her expression unreadable, but her body language suggested a grim satisfaction. Willow made a leap of intuition and concluded that the prone man was one of the bad guys.

He can wait, then, contemplating the meaning of karma, she thought to herself before calling out to Wyatt. “Captain San! Where’s Sam? Is he inside? Is there anyone else in there?” She bit her lip, realizing that she sounding just a little more panicked than a ship’s doctor should in a crisis. She touched the doctor’s arm lightly to let her go, and she slid to her feet and approached the mule quickly, using the time to compose herself.

Wyatt had already spotted her, however, and waved her over, telling her about Sam. She ignored the flare of fear inside her and made quick introductions.

“This here’s Doc McGuire, and he’ll get Mr. Wolf stabilized while I go check on everyone inside, isn’t that right, doctor?” she continued, and this time, it was Willow’s question that held authority. Her people were hurt, and there was steel somewhere in that silken glove. Clear eyed and seemingly calm, she headed for the bank entrance, gesturing to Asher to come with her. “A lady always needs protecting, Asher, dear,” she murmured. As she passed the Captain, she held his gaze for a long moment, then deliberately turned her gaze over to the doctor, before turning again to look Wyatt in the eye. Hoping her meaning was clear, she continued past the Captain towards the bank.

OOC: Stopping here, but assuming Asher joins her and the Captain doesn’t have other ideas…

Things might've been a little prickly a moment earlier--Wyatt's hat could attest to that! But it weren't the gunfire, explosions, or people bleeding all over the goram place that set the hair on the back of Wyatt's neck standing on edge. No, it was the poignant look Willow gave him before gliding into the destroyed bank.

Now, he weren't no psychic telepath, or nothin', but he could've sworn she'd just screamed, "Danger! And it's the guy carrying the bag you should be worried about, you dumb space cowboy!" At least, that's what Wyatt had ringing in his brainpan as the scent of Willow's perfume dissipated into the overpowering, acidic odor of gunpowder.

(OOC: though Wyatt will continue with that which I posted above, he'll do so while keeping one hand on his newly reloaded Colt, and one eye on the town physician.)

“Captain San! Where’s Sam? Is he inside? Is there anyone else in there?”

"Willow! Sam's here, and in need of your tender care. Quick, Woman! He looks like he's about done waitin'."

“This here’s Doc McGuire, and he’ll get Mr. Wolf stabilized while I go check on everyone inside, isn’t that right, doctor?”

"One in there for you too, Doc," Wyatt drawled as he stepped away from the door and caught sight of the man's doctorin' bag.

“Thank you kind sir,” the doctor said politely as he passed Wyatt, “I like to believe that anyone wounded or sick is for my attentions.” The doc gives the captain a quick once over, looking for injuries and finding none. He also looks over Ethan but merely hakes his head sadly before getting to Wolf.

“Now there, Wolf isn’t it?” The doctor says pleasantly as he opens his bag and begins removing bandages and equipment. “No need for you to give me the next of kin, young man, we’ll have you right as rain in no time. You might think there’s a lot of blood here, but you got plenty more.” He begins to examine the wound with a gentle touch. “Nice driving by the docks, by the way.”

As John Blake rushes into the bank in a panic, Cora walks up towards the doctor. “Doc? How are you feeling right now?” She asks tentatively.

The doctor doesn’t look up from what he is doing, as he starts to unwrap the bandages. “Feeling fine Mrs. Blake,” He says in a level but annoyed tone, “You?”

“Well…other than the bank and all, okay. You sure you are okay doc? Wouldn’t want you to ..”

“I said I was fine, Cora.” The doctor remains focused on bandaging Wolf’s shoulder. “Or are you trying to say something?”

“No Doc, it’s just that….”

“It is mid day Cora and my condition is frankly – private. Or did you wish to have a conversation about things that both you and I would prefer to be private? We could talk to John.” The last part came out as a definite threat, and Mrs. Blake pales visibly at its mention and shuts up.

“You put your hand here,” the doctor said to Wolf, putting hand on the bandaged wound, and ignoring Cora Blake. “Put as much pressure on it as you can bear. It will hold you until I can get you to my office.”

“I thought I'd seen you somewhere before," Wyatt crouched next to Ludlow, "You look like your brother--got that same reckless way 'bout you where other's lives are concerned. Funny thing, Ludlow, I put your brother down same as we put you down. Guess you two really were somethin' of a pair after all."

Ethan’s face shows the shock of hearing of his brother’s demise. He tries to reach for his gun but it is too far away and he is too weak to reach.

Wyatt remained impassive as he made to rise, his eyes locked with the man who'd caused them so much recent grief. Then he paused, "Tell me somethin', Ludlow. Why was your brother lookin' fer a Sam when I split his brainpan?"

Ethan looks at his killer intently as the final pains of his death overwhelmed him. All he could do before dying was to whisper faintly, “Her……”

"The least you could do after all this damage is confirm with me that you ain't got no more brothers..." Wyatt muses. He then looks over at JW and Brigit. The lady is crying softly in the man’s arms. "You OK ma'am?" he intoned in his same deadpan drawl. Receiving his answer, Wyatt raised an eyebrow to JW, while rolling his ruined hat in his hand. "I trust your ship is OK. Ventin' as she was, you had us a might concerned.”
JW gives a slight smile, “Ship’s fine. The crew spotted yours trying to shadow us in. I thought you might be the ones with our containers so I asked the Captain to make a diversion to let you get by. Glad it worked, even if we had to suffer them purple bellies mucking about for hours with the ship.”

As if on cue, the tell tale thunder clap in the clear skies reveal that a ship just entered atom in a hurry. “Damn it!” JW cursed, “I knew it! They probably detected the explosion. Captain, I would rather that them boys had no reasons to be asking you questions or even attaching your ship to the scene of the crime, if you catch my drift.”

Meanwhile, more and more people have started to arrive at the bank. The crowd jostles around for a look-see and the voices from the mob can be heard.

“They robbed the bank?”

“Them Ludlow boys were always bad news.”

“Who is that? We got a sheriff?”

“Sort of scruffy for a sheriff.”

“A sheriff? Praise be!”

“Time for good old fashion law and order now.”

“Start hanging and then they’ll see.”

“it’s good to have a Sheriff.”

Inside the Bank
Willow entered the bank to view the damage. Her eyes found Sam in an instant, and notes that despite looking shot up and beaten, he was still breathing. She forced herself not to panic and quickly checked all the other men for vital signs while Asher covered her. The two who were obviously brothers were dead. The man near Sam was so shot up that death was only a mercy to him.

Sam’s ballistic vest was badly damaged. It would have to be cut off and would never serve to protect again, but it did its job. But the bruising and swelling on Sam’s body screamed internal injuries. He was gonna need surgery and fast or they might lose him.

Wyatt had said there was another wounded in here, so Willow quickly looked around, and found the bank teller on the floor. His breathing was shallow and his heart beat erratic. Electrical burns were the least of his problem and the voltage had disrupted his electrocardio rhythm. Both Sam and this man needed medical attention and they might not last to the ship.

The short, round banker entered and screeched a girlish cry, “Oh my bank! They opened the vault! They might have …” He gurgles and turns beet red in the face while clutching his chest. In a second he crumples to the ground.

“Doctor!” Willow calls outs urgently, “Come quick!”

The sounds of the crowd gathering around filled Wyatt’s ears, and his senses, as had the sounds of the ship breaking atmo.

“Damn it! I knew it!” JW drew the captain’s attention back to him from the sky where Sung used his torn up hat to block the sun enough that he could make out the pinpoint ship descending upon the scene. “They probably detected the explosion. Captain, I would rather that them boys had no reasons to be asking you questions, or even attaching your ship to the scene of the crime, if you catch my drift.”

“You an’ me,” Wyatt tossed his hat into the mule. “We’re singin’ the same song. Wolf, can you get that mule goin’ again? Will the brakes work, or is it a useless effort?”

“Doctor!” Willow’s cry turned Wyatt on his boot heel. “Come quick!”

“Gorram excitement,” the captain muttered under his breath as he followed the doctor into the bank.

He’d registered the interaction between the doctor and the banker’s wife, but had stored it away for scrutiny another time as there were more immediate concerns to be had. He’d even stored away the intense feeling of impending…well, just impending, that Ludlow’s single uttered dyin’ word brought to his innards accompanyin’ the chill such statements from the crowd as, “…We got a sheriff?” and, “It’s good to have a sheriff” had already bestowed upon him. Blinking into the shadowed, rubble-filled interior, Wyatt frowned at the still chaos that presented itself before him. The banker now lay crumpled in the middle of the floor as well.

“What needs doin’, Willow?” Wyatt demanded. “We got Nien Mohn breathin’ down our backsides, an’ I don’ much feel like Gen Ho Tze Bi Dio se, if’n you catch my meanin’.”

OOC: From just before the shoot out...

IC: The rush of adrenaline made Asher feel as though the world was moving in slow motion – every sense heighten. He kept his Peacekeepers trained on the boys through the window, waiting for the Captain’s move. Where are you, Sam?
PAFFT! PAFFT! PAFFT!

There you are… Asher watched as one of his targets went down. The Kid’s mind registered his other target turning around and leveling his shotgun… Sam!
But Asher’s hands were moving faster than the speed of thought.

BAM! Choo fay wuh suh leh!
BAM! Stay with me, Sam!
Asher heard the Captain’s revolver go off beside him.

BAM! Stay with me…
BAM! BAM! The man with the shotgun went down beside his friend.

“Woo-whee!” The Kid let up a cheer in the midst of the battle. He watched Wolf stand up, uzi in hand. Asher followed the new mechanic’s gaze as Wolf opened up the sub-machine gun, the burst fire knocking the Ludlow onto his back. With no immediate threats, the world started to move back into normal speed again.

“Haha! Nice shootin’, Wolf!” Asher grinned as he quickly reloaded his Peacekeepers.

Dropping a hand to Fenris's uninjured shoulder, Wyatt muttered a simple, "Thanks, Wolf. Now hang on fer a bit longer," as he dropped from the damaged mule and strode quickly towards the bank interior. Asher followed suit.

"Asher," Wyatt said calmly as he thumbed rounds into the Colt's cylinder after flicking the empty shells to the road. "Cover me."

“No problem, Captain,” came the Kid’s ‘can-do’ response.

As the Captain went through the door, Asher watched the man’s blind spots, looking for trouble. He gave a low whistle at the level of destruction inside. “Must have been one hell of a party, Sam…”

"Bloody hell, Sam!" remarked the Captain. The Kid had to restrain himself from rushing over to Sam, and remained at the door, trying to stay alert to any danger. Hold on, Sam!
“Is he still breathing, Captain?”

The Captain was about to respond, but then noticed something. Asher took his gaze off the room for a moment to follow his gaze.

“Willow…” Asher said quietly.

"Willow!" Wyatt waved his left hand in the air to catch her attention; his right still holding the Colt level and ready just in case. "Sam's here, and in need of your tender care. Quick, Woman! He looks like he's about done waitin'."

The kid smiled. Bugger’s still alive…
“Captain San!” Miss Willow called out. “Where’s Sam? Is he inside? Is there anyone else in there?” She made her way over to the bank entrance to converse with the Captain.

“This here’s Doc McGuire,” she continued. “and he’ll get Mr. Wolf stabilized while I go check on everyone inside, isn’t that right, doctor?” she continued, Clear eyed and seemingly calm, she headed for the bank entrance, gesturing to Asher to come with her. “A lady always needs protecting, Asher, dear,” she murmured.

“No problem, Miss Willow!” the Kid nodded.

Asher followed the good doctor into the bank as she made her way around to check all the men for injuries. As they finally came to Sam, Asher finally stole a glance at the pilot. The man was a bloody mess indeed. Believing that there were no immediate threats present, Asher went down on his knees to get closer to the man. Trying to remain positive, to give Sam hope… and to hide his own fears… the Kid put a grin on his face. “Well, you’re looking good, brother! Hell of a party here. Thanks for the invi…”

The sound of someone other than Willow walking about brought Asher quickly up with both Peacekeepers drawn. It was the banker. The man took one look around his ruined bank and screeched a girlish cry, “Oh my bank! They opened the vault! They might have …” Suddenly he fell to the floor.

Feeling a bit paranoid, Asher looked around for possible targets.

“Doctor!” Willow called outs urgently, “Come quick!”

The Captain appeared.

“What needs doin’, Willow?” Wyatt demanded. “We got Nien Mohn breathin’ down our backsides, an’ I don’ much feel like Gen Ho Tze Bi Dio se, if’n you catch my meanin’.”

D-mn! “Hold on, Sam! Looks like the party ain’t over yet.”

OOC: Asher’s plan is to stay close to Sam and talk to him, keeping up the positive comments… unless a) Miss Willow directs him elsewhere, b) The Captain directs him elsewhere, c) Some baddies show their faces, in which case, he’ll be shootin’! (Hooray for shootin!)

As the rest of the crew rushed into the bank to rescue Sam, Fenris sat back into the driver’s seat, glad to be able to just relax the pain of his wound helping to keep him awake despite the blood loss. Without warning a vision of the Rocinante with a new coat of paint and ultra turbo charged engines played through his head.

Before he knew it just as it seemed he had fallen asleep he was brought back to the here and now by Doc McGuire’s probing of the wound as he went to work.

“Now there, Wolf isn’t it? No need for you to give me the next of kin, young man, we’ll have you right as rain in no time. You might think there’s a lot of blood here, but you got plenty more. Nice driving by the docks, by the way.”

Wolf could not help but sniff the Doc’s breath as he spoke and was able to relax knowing the Doc had not been boozing it up before the fight.

“Thanks Doc, was no sweat really” Then as if a switch was thrown a crowd quickly gathered and Wyatt was back by the mule.

“You an’ me,” Wyatt tossed his hat into the mule. “We’re singin’ the same song. Wolf, can you get that mule goin’ again? Will the brakes work, or is it a useless effort?”

The Captain’s question surging the mechanic’s adrenaline level he came to as full awreness as he was gonna get.

“Not a problem Cap’n the brakes will hold together till we reach the ship.” Patting the console before him Fenris spoke to the mule in a low voice. “Hear me baby hold together.”

Looking up he again addressed Wyatt

“So we moving then Cap‘n, how’s Sam??”


Wake me up inside, wake me up inside, call my name and save me from the dark, bid my blood to run before I come undone, save me from the nothing i've become.

Asher had gone down to his knees beside Sam and was speaking to the injured man. Willow patted his shoulder approvingly and murmured that Asher should call her if Sam appeared to get worse. She was considering which of the bank teller or Sam needed a real doctor instead of just her when a plump little man came into the bank, screeched like a girl then collapsed, clutching his chest. Willow called out for the doctor as she hastened to the man’s side, shaking her head. It was a fair guess, given the man’s apple shape, that he’d just given himself a long overdue coronary, but maybe Buddha would smile on her and he’d just fainted. She couldn’t take that chance, however, as the chances of surviving a heart attack were highest when treatment was immediate. She dropped to her knees and began to examine the banker, listening to his heart and gently lifting an eyelid to check the pupil.

“What needs doin’, Willow?” Wyatt demanded. “We got Nien Mohn breathin’ down our backsides, an’ I don’ much feel like Gen Ho Tze Bi Dio se, if’n you catch my meanin’.”

“Unless Captain-San went to medical school when my back was turned,” Willow responded pertly, ”you’d best get out of the doctor’s way and let us get to the business of keeping these folk alive. No-one’s in any state to be moved at the moment. “

(OOC: Assuming the doc arrives in response to her call) “Doctor, there you are. This gentleman has just collapsed, I suspect a heart attack but have not yet had a chance to confirm. The bank teller has electrical burns and the voltage has thrown his heartbeat off. We need to get him stabilized before he’s gone too long without oxygen to the brain. Sam dear, well, Sam dear’s a plain mess…gunshot wounds and internal bleeding, from the way he’s struggling to breathe. He’s going to need surgery, and my ship’s just too far.”

Willow spoke calmly and precisely, rattling off vital signs as if she were back in the hospital, but it was mostly an act for the sake of the injured. She wanted to scream and cry and clutch Sam to her, and to hell with anyone else’s hurts, but she knew such dramatics wouldn’t help, and indeed would get in the way. It would be quite the spectacle though, she thought to herself, her sense of humour helping to quell her fear. Usha would be so proud!

“Doctor!” Willow called. “Come quick!”

The cry of Willow was answered by the Doctor with Wyatt, JW and Brigit following in suit. Brigit detaches herself from JW and runs to Sam on the floor saying, “Oh sweet Lord! Don’t let him die! He saved me from those horrible men who were going to …” she breaks off into weeping beside Asher.

The doctor looks over the scene with a calm expression.

“Doctor, there you are. This gentleman has just collapsed; I suspect a heart attack but have not yet had a chance to confirm.” Willow says to him. With nod, he walks over to the banker on the floor and reaches into the man’s shirt, pulling out a silver pendent on a chain. The pendant snaps open in the doctor’s hand and he fingers two pills out of the container, and then forces them into the dying man’s mouth. “I told you John.“ The doctor says with a forced patience. Two pills under the tongue whenever you start to feel pain. Don’t wait for the pain to become too much for you.”

The Doc starts to roll up his sleeves, “So what else do we have Miss Willow?”

“The bank teller has electrical burns and the voltage has thrown his heartbeat off. We need to get him stabilized before he’s gone too long without oxygen to the brain. Sam dear, well, Sam dear’s a plain mess…gunshot wounds and internal bleeding, from the way he’s struggling to breathe. He’s going to need surgery, and my ship’s just too far.”

“Vitals?”

Willow spoke calmly and precisely, rattling off vital signs as if she were back in the hospital.

JW walked up to the old doctor, “We ain’t got much time Doc, company coming.”

The Doc nodded and looked over towards Wyatt, “My place is directly out that back door and through the yard, less than 200 feet away. I’ve got a well stocked if not often used surgery so I think that is best. Shed will hold your mule, and I got plenty of room for you and your men Captain. Miss Willow? JW pays for the toys so I got the full playroom, but I need your help.”

“But that’s through the Tong’s Temple grounds!” Cora says from the doorway, walking quickly to her now recovering husband.

“They aren’t gonna bother us if I’m with them Cora,” the Doc replies smoothly, “They owe me for more than a few favours and they’d never cross wounded men unless they did something to them.”

JW pipes in, “What you need Doc?”

“Get me men to carry the wounded. Captain, have Wolf pull around back. “

“You best be getting with the doc then Captain, while the going is good. I’ll handle them purple bellies. Time for that money I spent on a senate seat to pay off.” JW runs to the bank doorway and hollered out “Bailey! Get me a crew in here! Double time!”

Meanwhile, Brigit has pulled herself together to speak to Asher, “He saved my life.” She says. “Are you brothers? The Doc will fix him right. He just gotta!”

Sam murmurs something and tries to move as a group of miners come in the doorway to receive instructions from the Doc. Brigit leans close to Sam and whispers something in his ear that Asher can’t hear and then moves away so the miners can circle him and lift him up as straight as they can. Brigit begins crying again, first leaning on Asher, and then embracing him in a desperate need of comforting.

Wyatt gave an approving nod at the doctor's instructions, still not sure if he trusted the man having Willow's warning gaze imprinted on his brainpan like the Bluesun logo, but it was all they had right now.

"Wolf!" Sung called over his shoulder. "You know where the Doc's place is? Haul that mule into the shed there if you would, and be quick about it."

As the men gathered about Sam and the other wounded, Wyatt steps out of their way, worry gripping his gut but never showing on his face. "Keep your iron shut up when walking through that Tong-yard, Kid. Willow might've sweetened some up earlier, but I ain't puttin' us in harms way unnecessarily."

Turning to JW, Wyatt reached up to tip his hat, then remembered that he carried it in hand and gave the man a nod instead. "I appreciate the kindness for me and mine." Then he went after the procession, taking his communicator from his pocket as he did so.

"Ma," he said into it with a dry voice. "Keep Rocinante locked up nice an' tight as though no one's home 'til we git back. We're gonna be sittin' tight at the town doc's house fer a spell."

He knew she wouldn't reply, but felt assurance that she'd received the message none-the-less. With business in order, he had nothing more to worry about for the time being, but makin' it through the Tong's property, relyin' on a perfect stranger to fend off the Alliance, an' some strange doctor workin' alongside Willow to save Sam's life.

"They come in three, Asher," Wyatt said. "We've had the bad, now's time fer the good."

In that forever long few minutes Sam Dash had found himself in a place that, as far as he could conjure, was like to be as close to Heaven as a Joo Bah Jeh such as him was liable to get – nothin’ blowin’ up, no one chasin’ him down an’ tryin’ to put a bullet in his brainpan, an’ Miss Will nekkid in his arms – it was downright peacable. Hell, he had almost even forgotten that something… just about everythin’… should be hurting him. He hadn’t counted how many bullets and beatings he’d taken before he ended up here but he knew there’d been a ruttin’ good handful, anyway, and by rights he should have been feeling more than how soft Willow’s skin was and how good her hair smelled and how gorram delicious her…

“Bloody hell, Sam!”

In that peacable place, Sam flinched and practically flew out of the bed… Bed? How’d a gorram bed get inta th’ infirmary?… expecting to see a more than disapproving Wyatt set ta give him an ass chewin’ or worse for grapplin’ with Willow. In the real world, though, that dreamed action came through to the physical body and Sam tried to sit up… Ai yah tien ah! Rung tse song di ching dai wuo tzo!… and the peacable place was gone. Yep, he winced, suddenly remembered as to where he actually was as opposed to where his damn fool mind had taken him, I was right. Ever’thin’ hurts! Jus’ like I figgered… That you, Wyungsung?
“Is he still breathing, Captain?”

Hell yeah, I’m still’ breathin’, Sam wanted to answer, Course, that ruttin’ hurts, too. If the words came out at all, though, it was in the form of a pained groan and the pilot realized that it probably wasn’t going to be long before he did stop sucking air… he wondered if Miss Brigit was all right… and that weasel faced teller…

The smell of Willow’s perfume distracted him again and, for a second, the pain subsided and he found himself drifting back to that peaceful place where Will’s infirmary had a honest and true bed and she didn’t mind rolling around in its sheets with him…

“Well, you’re looking good, brother! Hell of a party…”

Dammit, Kid! Why ya wanna go sneakin’ up on me? Dash might have croaked out the words, ‘Hey, Di-di’, when Asher knelt next to him but pain and fatigue crashed over him again and he didn’t manage to finish with ‘nice shootin’, boy.’

The pilot was in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes. At times, acutely aware of the goings on around him in the ruined bank even if he was in no physical shape to act on or respond to any of it, and at others, scarcely at the brink of lucidity but painfully conscious of how broken up he’d gotten himself. His eyes – quite possibly lit with a fire of panic – shot wide open when the unmistakable boom of an Alliance patrol boat burning in reverberated through the town. Aw, ya gotta be strokin’ me! That’s jus’ perfect, ain’t it!
“…got Nien Mohn breathin’ down our backsides,” he heard the Cap’s voice as his eyes couldn’t help but close again, “an’ I don’ much feel like Gen Ho Tze Bi Dio se, if’n you catch my meanin’.”

Ya gotta get us outta here, Wyatt, Dash wanted to say, C’mon puhn yoh! Ma shong!
“Unless Captain-San went to medical school when my back was turned,” Willow responded pertly, ”you’d best get out of the doctor’s way and let us get to the business of keeping these folk alive. No-one’s in any state to be moved at the moment.”

Dammit! he raged internally, I’d be best off dyin’ right here an’ right now, then! Wong bah duhn! As badly as he might have wanted to haul himself to his feet and get the hell out of this place, Sam knew that, in his current condition there was no way in hell that was ever gonna happen… if he didn’t get lucky enough to die, bleeding and broken, on the floor of this equally humped up bank, he just knew that a squad or three of Purple Bellies was gonna come bustin’ in here in the next few minutes, recognize him for who he really was and make sure he lived, at least long enough to stand trial for desertion, theft and/or destruction of Alliance property, and whatever else the huen dahn’s could come up with. All I needs, now, is fer another one o’ Phoenix’s goons ta show up an’ it’ll be ruttin’ perfect…
“…best be getting with the doc then Captain, while the going is good,” an authoritative voice that Sam didn’t recognize said from the fringes of his fuzzy awareness, “I’ll handle them purple bellies. Time for that money I spent on a senate seat to pay off.”

Mi tian gohn! A senator?... Right… that JW feller’s s’posed ta be a senator…an’ Brigit’s…
“He saved my life,” finally he heard Brigit’s voice, as if thinking her name had called her up outta the Verse. She wasn’t talking to him though. “Are you brothers?”

Must be the Kid. Damn’d Asher always gettin’ the girl! Good fer you, Kid. I tried it an’ all I got was kilt.
“The Doc will fix him right. He just gotta!”

“I’ll be a’right, bao bei,” he tried to say. It didn’t feel like his mouth shaped the words exactly, though.

The schoolmarm must have heard something, though, because the scent of her perfume grew stronger as she came close and whispered in his ear; “Samuel Dash. I want you more than I have ever wanted a man before. So you better recover quick, you hear!”

He forced his eyes open, then, and tried to focus on the near-beautiful-as-Willow lady. Ta mah duh, woman! Wit’ yer man in th’ room an’ ever’thin’? Brass, darlin’! Solid brass! He tried to smile at her, unsure as to his measure of success in creating the expression through the tight, pained grimace that any attempt at moving (or breathing) etched on his face… just in case the smile was missed, though, Sam lifted a hand as much as he could and, like the pilot he was, offered a ‘thumbs up’ as even more people he didn’t recognize crowded in and set about getting him ready to move.

((OOC: Whoa! I wrote something! I figure that, once he starts getting lifted and jostled around, Sam’s liable to try and let himself drift out of consciousness but may not have much luck considering the proximity of the Purple Bellies and such. Of course, he’s got his dreams of Willow and ‘promises’ from Brigit to keep him entertained and/or distracted… More as we go.))

When the doctor reached down and gave the banker pills he himself carried, Willow nodded to herself. Nitroglycerin for angina…of course! While she was happy to have one less patient to worry about, Willow was a wee bit annoyed at the banker…abusing his body so with rich food and little exercise, then being so thoughtless as to throw a fit when they were least able to indulge him. Now, now, girl! The young and beautiful ones are easy to love, but the foolish and the plain are worthy, too. Remember the one precept of the Companions: Above all else, love.
Willow ducked her head in shame at her own thoughts, and used the gesture to cast a glance back over at Sam. His breath was so laboured, Willow’s own chest ached with every breath. Hang in there, dear heart, we’ll be making you feel better soon.
The former Companion perked up when the doctor mentioned his surgery, close by and well-stocked. “JW pays for the toys so I got the full playroom, but I need your help.”

“Of course, Doctor-san. Just try keeping me away while anyone works on my Sam dear,” Willow responded smoothly,” I’m a bit protective that way, I’m afraid,” she finished, though her tone was more firm than apologetic. She couldn’t help but remember his earlier evasiveness, but the need to help the injured was too urgent to insist on going back to Rocinante . The Captain appeared to be of the same mind, not making objections to the doctor’s suggestions.

"Wolf!" Sung called over his shoulder. "You know where the Doc's place is? Haul that mule into the shed there if you would, and be quick about it."

“A moment, Mr. Wolf,” Willow interjected, gliding closer to Wyatt, and setting a soft hand on his forearm in a stalling gesture. She called out to Fenris, “We don’t want to carry the injured much by hand, we don’t know what injuries they may have to neck and spine. Bring the mule round to the back of the bank, so JW’s men aren’t carrying them too far.”

Turning back into the bank, Willow gave Wyatt’s arm a brief squeeze, both a reassurance and an apology for countermanding him.

“You best be getting with the doc then Captain, while the going is good. I’ll handle them purple bellies. Time for that money I spent on a senate seat to pay off.” JW runs to the bank doorway and hollered out “Bailey! Get me a crew in here! Double time!”

“Alliance!” Willow breathed softly, then hurried back over to Sam, dropping to her knees and opening her medipack. Pulling out a gauze bandage, she began to wind it gently around Sam’s head, obscuring his face. While he’d never spoken of his past and Willow’d never pushed, she had noted over time how twitchy he was about anything Alliance. With him unconscious and helpless, Willow felt better if Sam was a bit harder to recognize.

Behind her, she could hear Brigit speaking to Asher, and his bemused voice responding, but she was too distracted with worry to listen. As the miners picked Sam up to carry him away, Brigit leaned over the unconscious man and whispered to him, probably thanking him for protecting her.

Willow smiled encouragingly at her, before asking,” How are you, Miss Brigit? Shall I take a look at that lip? Seems like you’ve been struck, you poor dear!”

“Doctor!” Willow called. “Come quick!”

The cry of Willow was answered by the Doctor with Wyatt, JW and Brigit following in suit. Brigit detaches herself from JW and runs to Sam on the floor saying, “Oh sweet Lord! Don’t let him die! He saved me from those horrible men who were going to …” she breaks off into weeping beside Asher.

“Don’t you worry, ma’am.” Asher tried to assure both himself and the weeping woman. “Sam here’s a fighter. He’s gonna come through this just fine. Ain’t that right, Sam?” Hang on, Sam. Hang on. The thought repeated itself in the Kid’s mind.

The decision was made to head over to the Doc’s house by way of the back. While the location sounded sweeter than Ma’s creamed corn, the talk of going through gang territory put Asher on edge. He was doing a quick check of his Peacekeepers once more to make sure they were fully loaded, when the Captain spoke to him, "Keep your iron shut up when walking through that Tong-yard, Kid. Willow might've sweetened some up earlier, but I ain't puttin' us in harms way unnecessarily."

Asher frowned, but heeded the Captain’s orders, “I gotcha Captain.” He put his pistols back in their holsters.

The woman beside him pulls herself together enough to speak to Asher, “He saved my life.” She says. “Are you brothers? The Doc will fix him right. He just gotta!”

The Kid smiled at the thought of him and Sam being brothers. If Dash can hear this woman talk, I’m sure he’s choking back a laugh in his head… “Me and the Kid?!” The Kid looked over at the woman beside him for the first time. Yeow! Yeah, I can see why you’d protect those assets with yer life.
Stuttering a bit, Asher tried to comfort the woman, “Yeah.” There was a short pause while the Kid tried to regain control of his hormones. Bad! Bad! Bad, Asher! Sam’s right there on the floor. Googling over another guy’s girl while his still alive just ain’t right, Kid! “Yeah… don’t you worry yer pretty head, ma’am. I’m sure he’ll be in good hands.” Turning to Sam, “Ya hear that, Sam. Doc’s gonna fix you up right

As the miners came in to move Sam, Asher noticed the pilot’s Avenger lying on the ground. With quick talent, the Kid scooped up the weapon, located some extra bullets on Dash, and reloaded the gun. Switching on the safety, Asher slid the Avenger back into Sam’s holster. “Figure you might still be needed this yet today, Sam. If ya can hear me still, she’s reloaded and safetied.”

Letting the miners in to move the pilot, Asher moved back to woman and held her tight, give her that secure feelin’. As Sam is being carried, the Kid continued to reassure his friend. “And don’t worry none ‘bout the girl. I’ll take good care of her while the doctor’s patchin’ ya up.”

Asher breathed in the woman’s intoxicating perfume. MmmMmm… Bad, Asher! Bad!... But… she smells SO good!
From out of the corner of his eye, the Kid caught the Captain’s eye, "They come in three, Asher," Wyatt said. "We've had the bad, now's time fer the good."

“Already feelin’ it, Captain,” Asher smiled as he began escorting the distraught woman through the back door, towards the Doc’s home. Already feelin’ it. MMMmmm... it's ALL good...