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assassinwithahairpinIt had been a hard past few days, far from anywhere. They were in Colorado now, some mining town that made it a little easier for Billy to blend in because of the number of Chinese workers for the mine and the railroad. They'd decided to stay for a few days, long enough for the horses to get a good rest, and to have a bed under them for longer than a moment.
Their room at the hotel was relatively large. There was a tub--they'd both used it--and a balcony. They'd smoked. Billy had gotten them marijuana and opium this time, to roll with his tobacco, carefully marking the cigarettes with which was which. Tonight, it had been opium, and Billy felt a lovely, warm haze in him; half the smoke, half the gin they'd been drinking since dinner.
He was laying on the bed, watching Goodnight, when it struck him. For all the world, he didn't know why it had taken him quite so long. But looking at Goodnight, out of his jacket and waistcoat and with his sleeves turned up to show strong forearms, Billy was suddenly keenly aware that he could spend the rest of his life with this man.
He smiled softly at the thought.
Their room at the hotel was relatively large. There was a tub--they'd both used it--and a balcony. They'd smoked. Billy had gotten them marijuana and opium this time, to roll with his tobacco, carefully marking the cigarettes with which was which. Tonight, it had been opium, and Billy felt a lovely, warm haze in him; half the smoke, half the gin they'd been drinking since dinner.
He was laying on the bed, watching Goodnight, when it struck him. For all the world, he didn't know why it had taken him quite so long. But looking at Goodnight, out of his jacket and waistcoat and with his sleeves turned up to show strong forearms, Billy was suddenly keenly aware that he could spend the rest of his life with this man.
He smiled softly at the thought.
