(no subject)

[assassinwithahairpin]

Texas was blistering hot, in a way that Park Bokyung had never known in Korea or in western Washington. He'd been traveling for four days, exhaustion starting to set in. The horse he had was a skinny thing--bought from an Arapaho tradesmen when he'd crossed through Colorado for more than Bokyung had really been able to spare, but it was a resilient thing. He could commiserate with that.

He came into a small town, unsure what it was called or where he was on the map. It didn't really matter. He wasn't near enough the Rio Grande to really orient himself. Just passing through scrub and sand and a hundred miles of blue skies in every direction.

People were staring. Bokyung was used to that, and so he paid it no real mind. He approached the boarding house and left his little Arapaho mustang at the post as he went in and inquired for room. The matron at the front said there was none but to try and saloon, as it might be more to his style. He highly doubted that, but unhitched his horse and went over to the saloon instead.

It was an effort to ignore the stares. Hadn't any of these men ever seen an Oriental before? There were rail tracks laid not too far from here--he knew from crossing them--which meant they must have seen some variety at some point. Unless it was a rare track laid by Irish and Germans. But Bokyung doubted that.

The music in the saloon did not stop when he stepped in. Nothing did. That was certainly preferable.

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[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight Robicheaux had imagined his life might turn out many ways, when he was a younger man. None of them had exactly involved bounty hunting, but it was a tidy living when he had the mind for it. Sam always did have good advice when Goodnight felt like taking it.

But not in all the years he'd been at this had he had the luck of someone he was looking for walking into a saloon he was already in without some planning.

He might not have looked at all if not for a few slurred, muttered insults spewed from a gentleman at a nearby table. It had him looking up, watching the Oriental man leave the doorway. Goodnight was off in the corner - he preferred to have his back to as many walls as possible - and wondered how obvious it might be if he pulled out a wanted poster to check the face just now. But he was sure that was him.

[assassinwithahairpin]

There was a low grumble of dissent growing through the crowd in the saloon, but Bokyung didn't let it bother him. As much as was possible, anyway. He was always leery of these muttering crowds. The further inland he got, the fewer Orientals there were, the more likely he was to run into trouble. And he'd had a string of trouble from Idaho on south, if he were honest.

"There a room? Boarding house said there might be." Bokyung had money, but he preferred to not advertise that fact. He'd been mugged a few times.

The bartender sneered at him. "No room at the inn, boy. Not for you."

Bokyung frowned a little and sat the bar. "Whisky, then."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

The general murmur had Goodnight getting ready. The mingling patrons were too tense, the bartender too openly disapproving, and the Oriental not acquiescent enough for anything good to happen. He adjusted himself in his seat as subtly as he could, taking in the rest of the room - targets, possibly - to make a quick plan.

But his curiosity was getting the better of him. He'd seen Sam navigate situations like this, all quick and smooth talk and unshakable confidence (though Goodnight knew now the toll it took on him to keep that up). How would this Bokyung handle things? What kind of man was he? All Goodnight knew was on the warrant.

[assassinwithahairpin]

"Told you, boy, nothin' for you here," the bartender sneered. Bokyung was aware of people moving, shifting, around in his periphery and behind him. He tried to calculate. How fast could he move? How many were there that might try and put him in a corner? He didn't have a gun, his knife was in his saddle bag, and from the noise of it there was probably three or six people moving into some position.

The first one to grab him was on his right. Bokyung wasted no time in lashing out in defense.

At least none of them had pulled a gun yet. He was good in a fight, but not unarmed against gunpowder and lead. He should have brought his knife in.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

And there it went. Like a match to a fuse it had only been a matter of time before something exploded. Goodnight's response was not immediate, but that was planned. Bokyung apparently had no time for drunken nonsense, and Goodnight was downright impressed with the grit it took to get into a bareknuckle fight in a room full of guns. Despite the odds, that petite son of a bitch was holding his own.

Which was why as soon as he a gun actually come out, he stood up and fired a shot into a ceiling beam.

"I think that's quite enough, gentlemen. I would appreciate it if you would refrain from making my mark entirely unrecognizable - I need his face to claim the bounty."

As he moved toward the frozen clump of bloodied men, Goodnight pulled out the warrant he had.

"If y'all are done losing this fight, I'll take him with me."

[assassinwithahairpin]

Just as the men had froze in their circling and lunging, so did Bokyung. Now that there was a lack of movement, now that those words were out, Bokyung tried to make himself a shadow. Run. Run, his thoughts told him, a pulse in time with his hammering heartbeat.

His knuckles hurt. He kicked the shin of the man nearest to him and bolted for the door.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

He didn't make it far. The commotion in the saloon got attention from outside, and one of the biggest men Goodnight had seen in a while blocked the door, grabbed the Oriental man to make sure he didn't try to bolt in another direction. By now half the saloon had guns cocked.

"This who you were looking for, Mister Robicheaux?" The man chewed out his last name but in all his good manners, Goodnight managed not to flinch.

"Why it is. And I would rather deliver this one alive, if you could be so kind to assist in that."

[assassinwithahairpin]

Bokyung did not appreciate being grabbed in such a manner. He didn't appreciate being grabbed much at all. But there were guns on him, a man with a warrant, this giant that had him by the arms.

Bokyung sagged his legs and let his weight drop. He did not faint away, because you could not run again if you were asleep on the floor, but he made himself as limp and useless and he possibly could. He was a tactic he'd used countless times when he'd been beaten before. Now was not so very different.

If he could just get a head start. He glanced from where he was hanging limp in the huge man's grasp, toward his skinny little Arapaho mustang. That fucking horse had cost so much...

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Ted - Big Ted, apparently - obliged holding Bokyung while Goodnight verified it was indeed him by sight, and continued holding him while they waited for the sheriff, who provided a pair of cuffs and a key.

"Trust me," he said soft and low as he got the cuffs in place around Bokyung's wrists. "You wanna ride outta here with me rather than get chased down by them."

[assassinwithahairpin]

Bokyung was silent. He did not want to ride out with this warrant office. He did not want to get back on a horse. He was exhausted, sore, hungry--he wanted whisky and a bed and a cigarette.

And now he was going to jail. Or worse.

He stayed quiet, and the cuffs went on his wrists. He didn't fight, but he was overly complacent, that dead-weight sprawl on his body still in place. He looked up at the warrant office with venom written across the line of his eyes.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Teddy, our friend here does not seem to be in mind to walk - you mind getting him up on his horse for me?" Goodnight passed money to the big man and headed out of the saloon. He saw the tired mustang, the only horse that looked like it had been out recently, standing by his own patient mare. Ted got Bokyung back in the saddle while Goodnight took the mustang's reins and mounted up himself.

"Make sure you get everyone in there a round, with my gratitude."

Goodnight stayed quiet for the ride out of town - it was by no means a long ride - and he waited until they were out of sight before he stopped the horses and turned to look at his captive.

"You speak any English? I need to know if you're understanding me right now."

[assassinwithahairpin]

It was not at all dignified to be lifted into the saddle on his horse. Just to be obstinate, he subtly snapped his teeth toward the big man, Ted, and sneered a knife-point smile at him when he jerked away in startlement.

They rode. Bokyung sank his weight into the saddle so he was not disturbed on the way out of town. He did not look at the warrant officer, acted like he didn't understand him when he spoke. He had learned not to speak to sheriffs in his travels, and why should a warrant officer be any different.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Alright then," he sighed. "I tried that the polite way. I heard you talking at the bar - I know you at least know what I'm saying. It takes something to be ready to take on half a saloon bare handed. I must admit I admire the attempt. And if you are that sort of person - brave enough to face down some hick assholes - then I am interested in knowing you, and interested in tearing this," he made the folded up warrant reappear from his pocket, "up and leaving it in the dust. But that's up to you."

[assassinwithahairpin]

If Bokyung was honest, he didn't actually know what the warrant was for. He'd heard it bandied about a couple times, that there was a steadily growing price on his head--the last he'd heard was one hundred dollars, not bad for a chinaman. He eyed the paper, curiously but surreptitiously. He didn't think he was feeling complimented by the warrant officer's point about him taking on the saloon.

"Up to me, how?"

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Well, there is a decent bounty on your head and I wouldn't mind claiming it. That way the law thinks you're dead and you have one less thing to worry about out here. If you can stand riding with me a while then half of it's yours."

Half was better than nothing, and Goodnight liked this young man's pluck. Maybe he'd get the story behind the warrant out of him on the way to collect.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Bokyung snorted and looked away again. He didn't really have much of a choice. Shackled, reins out of reach, in custody of a warrant officer. If he was careful, and slow about it, maybe he could get his knife out of the saddle bag behind him. But it wouldn't cut steel.

"I'm not interested in your white money," he said. "So you might as well kill me."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"See, there's where I think you're wrong, lying, or just delusional. You might not be interested in it, my friend, but you need it judging by that sad pony you're on." Goodnight lifted an eyebrow, daring him to argue. "And when's the last time you ate? And I think I've already established that I don't want to kill you."

[assassinwithahairpin]

Bokyung scowled and said nothing. There was no point in it. Whatever this white man was on about, here ended the sad run of Park Bokyung from Korea to Washington to Texas. He'd spent so much of his remaining money on the horse, and now he was being insulted about the horse.

He dug his heels into the side of his mustang, and the horse skittered a little bit.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight kept good hold on the reins, though, and his own horse didn't budge. Worst that might happen is Bokyung would unseat himself. "I'm trying to propose a business proposition here. One of mutual benefit. But if you need time to think about it we can just start riding."

[assassinwithahairpin]

Bokyung sneered a little bit. Business proposition. More like horseshit.

"You think," he growled, low and slow, "that throwing that piece of paper away will change things? Even if you said I was dead, someone would see my face again. And then what? Not so dead anymore."

As if he hadn't tried. As if he hadn't been running long enough.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"I think you severely underestimate the white man's prejudices, despite your intimate familiarity with them. I could help you with that, too, if you were so inclined."

Goodnight shrugged. "But you're right, if I were to just tear this up and let you ride on out, there would still be some people hunting you down, one of them probably a good friend of mine. That should not give you any comfort."

[assassinwithahairpin]

The fact that there was any number of persons, friends of this warrant officer or otherwise, that may or may not have been hunting him down did not, in fact, give Bokyung any comfort. And he was a little insulted, honestly, that this warrant officer thought he needed assistance in navigating any variety of prejudice.

But he rolled his eyes, and said, indulgently, "So, what. You graciously inform whoever that I'm dead, collect your money and--have me in your debt?"

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Once we get the money you can go on your happy way," he answered. "I certainly will not keep you beholden to me." Goodnight sat up straighter since it sounded like they might actually be getting somewhere.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Bokyung rolled his eyes. He most certainly would. There had been more than his fair share of 'helpful people' from Washington to Texas. Bokyung was not foolish about these sorts of arrangements anymore. First it was a ride into town that he couldn't afford, then it was a meal he desperately needed but wouldn't ask for, and then he was leaving town, urgently, before he ended up traded out to the local chain-gang of railroad workers, under the yoke of indenture again.

But, curiously, he asked, "How much am I worth these days?"

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Since you've been on the run so long the numbers are racking up. It's three hundred now, so that's a hundred and fifty to you if you see this through with me. I'll cover expenses on the way since you'd be saving me considerable effort in cooperating."