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The night sky had grown as dark as the outlaws eyes as he came to the edge of the woods that surrounded the town of Hazzard. Chet Duke halted his big Red stead and gazed out into the coming evening darkness at the dimly lit town. Many people still mingled in the streets, mostly those who were finishing off a days work an preparing to head home for dinner.

Allowing Red to rest for a few moments while he decided his next move, Chet allow the reins to hang loosely as he built a smoke. Approaching the town from the rear wasn’t going to be enough cover for him to just slip in there easy like and see what was going on. Suddenly a thought crossed his mind, he could simply surrender himself to the law.... there would be no blood shed except for his own when they hung him. No innocent folk would be hurt...

His jaw line tightened and his brow furrowed darkly, an those two gun slicks would walk away and get away with what they had done to him. Outlaw to outlaw they had been right down.... he gritted his teeth.

“What do you think we should do Red?†Chet spoke to his horse. “Turn ourselves in an seal our own fate.... or scout around and see what we can find again?â€

Red pawed the ground and began to walk towards the town in reply. This was suicide, there was no doubt people down there just waiting to nab him the moment he shows himself. But what other choice did he have? Besides running in the other direction...

With a sigh of surrender he gave with his horses reply and began to ease down toward town. Silently relying on the darkening sky to cover his approach, he loosened his guns and checked them all to be sure they were fully loaded.

(Cue Brian, Alex or MA.)

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The Hazzard County jailhouse was lit up with the cheerful glow of kerosene lanterns. A couple of lanterns were hung from the porch posts, illuminating the hitching post out front. There, two horses waited patiently for their dinner.

A third horse was not being patient at all. After a long drink of water and a standing nap, Damascus was tired of waiting. The black horse tugged at his tie-rope. He whinnied. He pawed the ground. He kicked his front hoof at the water trough. This irritated Phoenix, who had been otherwise resting comfortably. Happy as the mare had been to see her pasture companion, Damascus's fit displeased her. She told him so by pinning her ears flat and giving a nip to his flank.

This caused Damascus to squeal loudly and give a reflexive kick of one hind leg, which hit the buckskin horse tied alongside him. Showdown bawled a protest and kicked back, and Damascus whinnied a complaint.

The noise interrupted Brian's conversation with MaryAnne and Alex. The black-clad outlaw strode out from the jailhouse to see what had the horses riled. Damascus swung his ears up and craned his thick neck out hopefully. *sugar?*

Brian could read the thought. "Do you think ah'm made outta sugar?! Spoiled horse...keep it down out heah!" All the same, Brian dug two sugar cubes from his pocket. Damascus slobbered them up, and immediately Phoenix and Showdown wanted their own treat. The horses nickered and pressed their noses towards Brian.

"Oh, for...awright, awright! Don't get pushy." Brian produced more treats from his pockets. The sugar disappeared from his open palms instantly. Chuckling, he reached out and patted Damascus, who had began to nibble on his hat. "Yeah, I know, dinner's late and yer gonna waste away to a ton. You'll get your oats as soon as we're done talkin' posse' business. So behave yerself, eh?"

Intent on settling down his horse, Brian didn't take notice of anything in town just yet...

(cue anyone!)

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Heart pounding like a jack hammer Chet steadily drew closer and closer to town, things were quieting down for the evening, just like they did every evening. The night air was becoming still and quiet, not even a steady wind blew now.

He hugged his legs around his horses sides and urged Red into a trot as he flicked his cigarette away and straitened in alertness. Feeling more and more nervous as he drew closer, he began to wonder who he would see first, and who he would seek first. In the back of his mind, Chet really wanted to get a chance to take a shot at the blonde stranger who had gut shot him. But he knew that that was not a good choice, he would get caught quickly and he would surely hang.

Chet knew that it would be best to seek out Sheriff Rosco or MaryAnne first, if she was back in town. He needed to avoid the two strangers and go to the law directly, but the unsettling feeling of just knowing his fate was becoming a rock in Chet’s stomach.

Cautiously he came near the first building an passed by it, the rear of the buildings were purely dark and he knew he could pass through an come right up to the Sheriffs office without being seen.

Building after building passed by an finally he came to the rear of the Sheriffs office, surprising enough lanterns burned within. An from the rear corner of the alley he could see lanterns burning in front of the building as well.

Keeping Red as slow and soft footed as possible he turned the tall horse down the alley beside the building and rode down it half way sticking close to the brick wall. Suddenly as he neared the end of the alley a few horses whinnied, one squealed and another bawled its disapproval.

Then the sound of boots thudding across the board walk headed towards the horses and the sound of a familiar voice echoed through the evening silence. Chet’s heart skipped a beat as he came to the end of the alley and halted there, him and his horse concealed in the darkness. He held his breath as he listened and watched the black clad figure and suddenly his concentration on the stranger was rattled.

His own horse squealed and pawed the ground, Red’s ears laid back angrily. Chet quickly tried to stifle his horses squeal by yanking on the bridle, his heart sank to his toes.... an he knew it was too late.

(Cue Brian.)

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The sound of the shrill whinny from the back of the jailhouse riled the three horses just as Brian had calmed them. The animals bellowed simutaneously, right into Brian's ear. "@#$%&*!"

Phoenix, who was at the end of the hitch post, seemed especially agitated. The appaloosa mare peered suspiciously into the darkness behind the jailhouse, nostrils flared, ears twitching. Damascus and Sundance stood stock-still, unable to see the threat but sensing the mare's tension.

This, more than anything else, told Brian that the horse whinny didn't belong to anyone friendly. He had hoped, for a split second, that perhaps it was simply Rosco's horse calling a greeting with the Sheriff's return. But Rosco wouldn't be sneaking up through an alley, and Brian knew it.

Company was coming, and there was no telling who, or how many.

Brian knew he should retreat back inside of the jailhouse. He couldn't, however, burst inside with nothing more to report than an unidentified whinny. And so he furled back his long black coat, and his gun whispered from the holster with a fast, subtle movement. He spun the weapon in his hand once, settling it into a sure grip.

He paused just long enough to turn down the flame of the porch lanterns. Darkness closed over Brian and enveloped his black-clad form with the night.

With a thief's silence, he stalked to the opposite end of the porch, leaving the horses tied to the hitch post. Phoenix continued to stare towards the back of the jailhouse, her attention focused on an alley. Brian marked the line of the mare's vision...and then slunk around the corner of the jailhouse. He kept his back to the outer wall, gun in hand, trusting that the building was blocking the sight of him from whoever was in that alley. His spurless boots made no sound as he edged closer to the rear of the building.

(cue CHET you low down dirty yeller dawg.....)

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The mismatched eyes watched the black clad stranger come into the alley as he backed his horse up towards the rear of the alley. An then the stranger disappeared, his black clothing aiding him in blending into the shadows, Chets heart stopped in its place.

He halted his horse, first of all the horses hooves were giving him away and he didn’t want risk the animals welfare. Carefully he slide back out of his saddle and onto his horses round rump, this way the creek of his saddle would not be heard during his dismount. He bent his knees when he dropped down to the ground from his horses rump, his boots silent but the clang of his heavy spurs announcing.

In reply to him dropping down to the ground his horse automatically galloped away out into the street leaving his master crouched in the alley. What now Chet thought, somewhere in this dark alley was a black clad stranger and chances were he knew where he was by the sound of his spurs.

A sarcastic half grin crossed Chet’s lips, if he couldn’t see the stranger then the stranger probably couldn’t see him, only hear him. Chet drew both of his .45's and stood up straitening his back, what did this guy want from him. Slowly he moved towards the street end of the alley, where the lamps glowed dimly.

Not caring if his spurs clang gave him away he raised his guns and pointed them towards the darkness as he backed up slowly towards the board walk. He knew that if he came out of the shadow that he would not be protected by the darkness, so he paused waiting to see if he could hear the stranger move. Chet kneeled down against the brick wall an waited patiently.

(Cue Brian.... you foul smelling, mangy, yellow bellied, black clad, SKUNK!)

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(flattery will gitcha nowhere, Chet.)

As Chet's flighty horse tore out of the alley, Brian ducked back and stayed motionless near the back of the jailhouse. He watched, scowling, as Chet crept out of the alley like a barn rat and slunk to the side of the building.

Brian figured there was one reason and one reasonly only that Chet had snuck back to Hazzard in the middle of the night. Namely....revenge. The twin .45's in Chet's hands seemed to be indication enough of his intent.

Chet crouched low and didn't move for a few minutes. Brian did the same. But Chet was posing a real problem. If MaryAnne and Alex came out of the jailhouse, they would be in risk of Chet's attack.

If Brian shot Chet, MaryAnne would likely demonstrate the "or else" clause of their agreement.

If Brian attempted to capture Chet alive, he'd likely get shot.

Every card was a spade, but it was too late in the game to fold. Brian silently pointed his gun at the night sky. He was about to tip off Chet to his presence....and in doing so, he would intentionally draw the rustler's gunfire. Which should allow MaryAnne and Alex the opportunity to exit the jailhouse and surround him; the gunshot would send them flying into action.

"Talk about yer shot in the dark," Brian muttered to himself. He pulled the trigger and fired into the sky. *BLAM!!* The gunpowder flare from the barrel announced his location along with the cracking echo of the shot....

(Cue anybody! )

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At Showdown's protest, Alex stopped talking to MaryAnne and turned towards the direction of the door.

"Something sure has those horses spooked--" He said to the Deputy. "And Brian hasn't come back inside yet."

He narrowed his eyes in puzzlement as the flickering light from the lanterns on the porch suddenly grew dim, their glow barely seen from beneath the closed door.

"I don't like this Deputy." He drew his gun from his holster and cocked it. "I'm going to find out what happened to Brian."

Leaving MaryAnne, he raised his gun barrel up and opened the jailhouse door a tiny bit.

"Brian?" He pressed his face in the crack and saw nothing but the three horses tied out front. Just as he gave the door a push and it swung back on its hinges, the sound of another horse gallopping away from behind the building reached his ears. This only confirmed Alex's suspicions that something was definitely going on.

"Brian?" He said again as he stepped out onto the wooden sidewalk. A quick glance left, then right showed nothing and that only worried the blond man all the more, especially with his friend no where in sight.

With quiet steps, Alex chose to go left and headed down the creaky wooden walkway, his back to the building. He tried to make as little noise as possible as he moved, trying to not even breathe too loud.

The crack of a gunshot suddenly shattered the silence of the night and he whipped around towards it, his heart now pounding hard in his chest.

The blast came from the opposite side of the jailhouse, but he didn't head that way. Figuring to get the drop on whoever was back there from the opposite side, Alex quickly turned back and ran down the sidewalk to the edge of the building.

(Cue Anyone!)

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The Duke boys brow wrinkled in question, why had the black clad stranger given up his hiding so willingly? Why hadn’t he at least fired in Chet’s direction, his spurs had to have given him some idea of where he was. Chet drew back the hammer on his right hand gun, what the hell was going on?

He took careful aim at the muzzle flash, deciding to aim high and far to the left to be sure that he did not kill or wound the black clad stranger. Chet had come to turn himself in, but he would never turn himself over to the likes of the two slicks, only to the merciful hands of the Hazzard law.

Suddenly just as Chet eased his finger onto the trigger the sound of heavy boot thuds on the boardwalk directly behind him made his heart skip. Slowly he turned his head and peered around the corner to glance at the boardwalk, he blinked suddenly in surprise. It was the blond slick that had shot him an he was coming right towards him.

A curled sideways grin flickered on Chet’s lips, now was his chance to pay this bastard back for shooting him in the gut. But remembering why he had come there he gritted his teeth, he could use this slick as a way into the jail house and to the law.

Moving as slowly as possible he turned around turning his back towards the black clad stranger in the alley, knowing very well that he could easily get shot in the back. Taking a deep breath Chet suddenly stood up revealing himself to the blond slick, his gun raised and pointed directly between the strangers eyes.

Chet’s mismatched eyes blazed coldly with an angry burning fire in them as they met the eyes of the stranger.

“Hold it! Don’t move.....or I’ll plant lead between your eyes!â€Chet’s voice came low and cold.

Slowly he took a couple steps forward so that he would be closer to the board walk and his mismatched eyes could faintly be seen in the dim lighting.

“Tell your pal behind me to show himself.....or I’ll cut you down!â€

(Cue Alex....yellow bellied coyote)

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At the click of the gun and the poke of the barrel against his forehead, Alex closed his eyes briefly and sighed. He had been caught, but good and there seemed to be no way out of this predicament unless he wanted a third eye.

The gun he held tipped over and dangled upside down by his index finger as he raised his hands.

He recognized the face on the other side of the gun instantly and shook his head, a scowl coming to his face.

"Knew you'd show up sooner or later Chet. You want to get Brian's attention, you do it yourself. I won't make him an easy target for you."

Alex raised his chin gazing at Chet, it was bad enough to be captured by the likes of this rustler but the last thing he wanted was to get his friend in the same ugly predicament...

(Cue Chet!)

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Barring his teeth in anger Chet tightened his grip on his gun and pressed the gun’s barrel against the strangers forehead harder. Not knowing the black clad strangers name Chet called out to him the best he could.

“You.... out there! Brian! Or what ever the @#$% your name is! Show yourself or your pal here gets another hole to breath out of!†Chet’s chest heaved in anger, he had just about all that he could take.

Silently he hoped that the stranger would shoot him in the back and kill him on that very spot.

“You’ve got ten seconds to show yourself.... or I kill him! Ten....nine....eight... seven... six.. five...â€

(Cue Brian or Alex.)

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Oh hell, Brian thought to himself as Chet counted down. After his shot into the air, Brian had leapt back behind the jailhouse, anticipating that Chet would turn those .45's upon him. But instead, Alex had managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and was getting the brunt of Chet's bad mood.

"AWRIGHT!" Brian called out loudly. He hustled to the far corner of the back of the jailhouse. "I'm on the other side, heah! I'm gonna come around to the front, where you can see me under the street lamps! I'll have mah hands in the air! "

With this, Brian quickly jammed his gun back into the holster. The rear of the jailhouse had a low-roofed back porch, and an old rain barrel stood under one corner of it. By Coltrane luck it was empty, and Brian turned the barrel upside-down and climbed up on it. He grabbed the edge of the back roof and pulled himself up. Silently, on all fours like a cat, he crept along the far side of the roof. He called out reassurance to Chet. "I'm walkin' slow...just take it easy...."

Brian flattened himself low and crawled to the front of the roof, moving over towards Chet's position. He carefully lifted his head, peered down, and saw that the horses had their attention fixed upon the rustler and his hostage. Phoenix's body language told all. The well-trained police mount was pointing her long nose at the danger, her ears pinned flat.

Taking a deep breath, Brian flattened himself and silently crawled the last few feet. He remained out of view for another heartbeat....and then sprung to his feet, made sure of his target in that split second, and yelled out a warning.

"ALEX, HIT THE DIRT! HYAAAAAAAAH!!!" Brian had his hands in the air, as promised....along with the rest of him. He dove headfirst off the roof, his black-clad form descending in a well-aimed pounce to tackle Chet Duke.

(Cue anybody! Even Chet, you sodbustin' horse apple!)

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It was like being hit by a horse at a dead gallop, Chet suddenly found himself crammed face down in the dirt, the impact horrific. For a few moments he lay still, dazed by the collision his head had mad with the ground. But quickly he forced himself to shake off the darkness, Chet still gripped his .45's tightly in each hand.

“Get off me you sonof@#$%!†Furiously Chet twisted and struggled against Brian’s weight against him.

Suddenly he twisted around, .45 in hand, he turned his hand aiming the heavy handle of the gun for Brian’s chin and struck with all his might. Twisting back and pressing with his hands and knees he attempted to force Brian’s weight off of him.

A sudden wave of fierce pain pinched Chet’s gut like being stuck with a hot branding iron, a wave of fear went over him and he dropped his right hand gun in front of him. He lowered his now empty hand to his gut and touched the fabric of his shirt over his wound. His fingers returned to his vision, smeared in a thick dark liquid...

(Cue Brian, Alex or anyone.)

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The harsh blow from the gun handle cracked against Brian's chin. There had been no way to block the move and keep Chet pinned down at the same time; and so Brian took the full force of the blow, his body going slack as unconciousness pulled him down. He remained over Chet like dead weight until the rustler succeeded in shoving him off.

Brian's inert form slumped into the dirt and didn't move.

(Cue Alex!)

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“Brian!†Alex had shifted to his knees, about to get up when he saw Chet smack his friend with his gun, then push the black clad outlaw off of him.

He went over to Brian and checked on his friend, rolling him over onto his back. Brian’s black coat opened with the motion, it slipped down enough to reveal the outlaw's holster. Alex had lost his own gun when Brian had bellowed out a warning and had dove away from Chet, the firearm had slipped from his hand and landed somewhere in the dirt around him.

“Sorry about this Brian, but this has got to stop.†Alex quickly drew Brian’s gun and cocked it. Rising to his feet, he now stood over Chet as the rustler examined the blood on his hand from the now reopened gunshot wound in his stomach.

Alex jabbed the barrel to the back of the Duke boy’s skull.

“You’re caught Chet…the games are over.†Turning the gun over, Alex drew his arm back and slammed the butt end of it against Chet’s head, rendering the rustler unconscious in the same manner Chet had hit Brian. Alex watched in satisfaction as the varmint fell face down on the ground.

“One good turn deserves another!â€

With the horse thief now unconscious, Alex returned Brian’s gun to its holster and fixed his coat. He knew with all the commotion MaryAnne would be rounding the building any minute now and find two unconscious men…one outlaw that was also her kin and one wanted horse thief.

(Cue MaryAnne!)

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And MaryAnne indeed did come flying around the corner, having heard all the commotion going on and trying to figure out where it was. When she came around the front of the jail house, she had rifle in hand and she saw the two unconcious forms laying on the boardwalk with Alex standing near by.

She approached, recognizing Brian as one and not recognizing the other. "What the *%(@! happened here??"

(cue anybody!)

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Alex heard the question the Deputy asked and crouched down by the unconscious form of Chet Duke. He rolled the rustler over and took a bandana from his pocket, pressing it to the bleeding wound in his stomach that he had managed to reopen.

"Deputy, this is Chet Duke, and as for what happened..." He stood up and went over to Brian looking down at his friend.

"He saved my life." Alex then turned to look over his shoulder at the Deputy.

"When I heard that shot I came around the corner of the building and met up with Chet here and the business end of his .45. He wanted me to make Brian come out from the behind the jail by pointing his gun between my eyes. When I refused to call for Brian, he said he was going to shoot me and started counting down from ten. Brian here dove onto Chet from the roof and got smacked in the jaw for his trouble--"

A soft groan caught both Alex and MaryAnne's ears, they turned towards the noise and saw the black clad outlaw beginning to move...

(Cue Brian or anyone!)

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"All right Deputy." Alex moved behind Chet and tucked his hands under the rustler's arms. "Just grab his legs and we'll get him inside."

Between the two people, Chet got lifted from the dirt and taken into the jailouse. They set him down in a cot and MaryAnne knelt down beside the small bed and began unbuttoning the horse thief's shirt to get to his wound. Alex gathered what medical supplies he could find around the jailhouse and a basin, then set them down next to the Deputy.

"I'll bring Brian inside."

Alex disappeared a moment and returned with the unconscious outlaw slung over his shoulder like a sack of oats. Stepping into the empty cell next door, Brian got deposited on the empty cot.

"There... at least its more comfortable then the ground." Alex then made sure the iron door was wide open before rejoining MaryAnne.

"Is there anything I can do?"

(Cue MaryAnne!)

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"Wake up Brian?" Alex glanced into the other cell and nodded.

"All right, I'll see what I can do."

Getting up from the floor, Alex left the cell and stood between the two glancing back and forth.

"Well...if I use water, I'll be the one that'll be needing a doctor's care." He crossed his arms over his chest a moment, then glanced over his shoulder and looked out the open door into the dark night. A grin came to his face as he then turned and went outside.

The three horses were still tied to a post and Alex went to the big black Percheron-Arabian and patted his neck.

"Hey Damascus, want some sugar?" The horse got excited at the sweet prospect and Alex untied him from the post.

"Well, Brian has got some in his pocket!" Alex then took the reins and guided the horse to the door of the jailhouse.

"Go find the sugar Damascus!" He let go of the reins and watched as the big black horse went inside the jailhouse. The horse barely fit inside and stuck his head through the open cell door and began nuzzling his unconscious master in search of his treat...

(Cue Brian!)

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The horse's muzzle explored the black coat and then zeroed in on the correct pocket. Damascus stuck his nose into the outer pocket of the long coat and helped himself.

Imagining himself elsewhere and with fairer company, Brian gave a drowsy, half-concious smile. "Mmm....yer gettin' warmer....khee..."

Damascus's answering whuff as he depleted the sugar cubes, caused Brian's eyes to slowly open. He blinked at Damascus in surprise. "GAH! Ah'm bein' robbed by mah own horse! Bad horse! Bad!"

Damascus lifted his nose from the pocket and chewed the last of the sugar, looking smug. Brian sat up, groaned at the fading echo of pain in his jaw, and regained his senses in full. Or as many of them as he'd ever possessed. He asked a question to whoever was in earshot. "Awright, ah'm not surprised that I'm in jail, but...what'd the horse do?"

(Cue anyone!)

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The pain was fierce in Chet's stomach, he had been hurt badly by the bullet he had taken only a few short days ago and a man in his condition should not have been out of bed. Let alone be doing all that he had, an now it was reflecting on his health as he laid on the cot in the jail cell.

For a short time he mumbled softly, his eyes squinted in pain but he remained in deep unconsciousness. Chet turned his head from side to side moaning and goaning, he even moved his right hand up to run his fingers through his short black hair.

"Don't shoot...." He mumbled from another world. "I surrender... please..."

Slowly, he grew more restless, bending his chap covered knees and trying to push MaryAnne's hands away from his wound. Then suddenly as if he had been hit by ice cold water, Chet came back to reality and his eyes shot open.

Panicing at first he rolled onto his side and turned his head so that he could see the person kneeled next to him on his right side, his blind side. Chet pressed himself up against the wall, wincing as his stomach screamed in pain from his movement. He looked directly into MaryAnne Coltrane's eyes, panic and sheer terror writen plainly on his face. His mismatched eyes gazed at her, only the sight of his good left eye presenting her appearence to him.

Chet scrambled off the end of the cot he scouched arcoss the floor, his spurs scraping and jingling with the motion. He backed away until his back hit the corner of the cell and he glanced around, the blonde stranger was there.... the black clad guy was there with his horse.... and the women kneeled by the bed had a badge pinned to her shirt.

"Don't shoot!" He said fearfully, his mind not yet collected.

(Cue anyone)

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Both Chet and Brian seemed to wake up at almost the exact same time, though Chet had woken up in a panic. The Deputy's reassurances that he wouldn't be shot seemed to calm the rustler down and he once more returned to his bunk and let MaryAnne finish her tending to his wound.

Seeing his friend now fully awake, Alex stepped closer to the second jail cell where Brian sat on the cot; the outlaw still seemed a little groggy but got more alert with each passing moment.

"The horse didn't do anything Brian, and neither did you. You're not under arrest I just put you in that cot instead of on the floor. I thought Damascus waking you up was a lot safer than a bucket of water."

Taking a hold of Damascus' reins, Alex led the big black horse back out the door where he joined Showdown and Phoenix, then came back inside.

While MaryAnne took care of Chet, Alex went over to the small Franklin stove close to the back of the room and poured two cups of water from the tin pot that sat on top of it. He handed one to MaryAnne for Chet, then offered the second one to Brian.

"Here...try some of this." He passed the cup to the man in black, then sat down in the chair beside the cot.

"Thanks for what you did out there Brian."

(Cue Brian or anyone!)

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(Please note: Alex isn't posting twice, but Chet's author is having computer issues and can't post this herself so she asked me to do it.)

Chet's blood leaked down the front of his abdomen and leaked onto his leather chaps staining them on contact. Greatful for the medical attention Chet pressed his heavy duster off his shoulders, his heart lept suddenly, he still wore his shoulder holsters which packed two fully loaded .45's. Hesitantly he unbuckled the holsters around his shoulders, his dull gaze steady on the deaputy, leary of her reaction to him being so heavily armed.

Sowly he pressed the holsters off his shoulders and laid them at the foot of the cot, Chet also removed the two .45's jammed in the back of his belt. Feeling alittle more at ease he pulled his shirt off of his arms, his left shoulder bearing the bandages that covered the hole above his hert.

"Thats all I've got.... now take it easy I dont mean any harm to anyone." Chet glanced at Alex and Brian wondering what they had told the female deputy about him. "I don't know what these slicks have told you about me... but I hope you'll hear my side of the game."

Narrowing his mismatched eyes at Alex for a split second Chet slowly relaxed back down against the wall witha sigh, his attention reverted back to the pain. He winced and looked down at the blood seaping down his demin pants and chaps.

(Cue anyone.)

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