Phoenix Chapter 9/?

[pdglyph.livejournal.com]

Phoenix

By: pd
Edited by: Glyph
Disclaimer: I own the OC's and story, not the gents
Rating (per chapter): PG-13 for some sensuality and language
Pairing (pc): None
Summary (pc): Enter Colonel McShane

A/N: The feedback has been awesome, you guys are awesome ^_____^ keep it comin, pls!

<3
pd



Recruitment

The next morning, Ryan went early to The Midnight Runners, handing the Job the large, completely bald doorman a nickel to let him through.

He swept off his hat to the sleepy girls as they watched him pass by with cups of coffee or tea in their hands. A few waved hello before turning back to their conversations. He wasn’t there for them, though a few wished he was, judging from what the madam said of his ‘attributes’. The girls tittered about the subject of his ample manhood for quite some time before the madam chased them to work.

However, Ryan knew none of this as he slowly made his way through the house, following the directions of the veritable labyrinth until he reached Maxine’s door.

It was locked with a little green silk scarf on it, so he moved down the way to the ‘gentleman’s lounge’ and sat in an over-stuffed chair, reclining and tilting his hat down. The other gentleman waiting his turn at a little table sipping on his coffee coughed loudly, flushing and trying to ignore the sheriff, hiding behind his newspaper. Ryan ignored him without a problem, not bothering to hide his grin at the noises coming from down the hall. Apparently Miss Maxine had some clients with fancier tastes than just an excellent fuck.

He’d nearly dozed off when the door finally opened and a short, bookish looking man stumbled out, breathing heavily and wincing as he walked. He braced himself for a moment against a wall, pulling at his collar, before continuing down the hall, his hand still out. Ryan chuckled a little, tilting his hat up to a familiar purr. “Sheriff Stiles.”

He rose, sweeping off his hat and bending to kiss her hand. “Miss Maxine.”

“Has something happened?” she frowned softly, reading him easily as she waved him inside. The man at the table rose, red-faced to protest, but she swept over to him. “Darling, he is not taking your place, he has not paid. He is simply a friend delivering news while I clean up and ready for us.” The thin, slightly balding man’s moustache quivered as she smoothed hands up his lapels, whispering sweet nothings that had him nodding eagerly. Ryan went inside with a shake of his head.

She came in shortly afterward, not even flustered when she found him examining a set of cuffs resting on a large fur coat, obviously just used for restraining her client to the foot of the bed. “I’ll clean this up while you tell me what has made you so distressed.”

“May I ask first what the candle was for?” He nudged the messy, half burst stick, freshly snuffed.

A fine black satin-clad arm snuck around him, and he followed it up to her eyes, mocking, amused. “Hot wax.”

She left him to ponder the not-answer, taking in her costume for the first time since she’d let him in. Wrapped from neck to heeled leather boot in black satin that hugged her figure, with slits up to her knees, showing shapely white calves. She’d obviously gotten it from the Chinese village just on the outside of town, and for some reason it was more erotic to him than seeing her in just her undergarments. “I’m leaving town. Possibly for good,” he said without pretense.

She stopped from hanging the cuffs on a rack inside her wardrobe and gave him a look. “Why, Sheriff, have you stopped by for a little pity petting?”

“No ma’am, I know that would be against the rules. But I came by to ask you a favor…”

She cocked her head and motioned him into a chair while she set about cleaning up her toys. “A favor, what makes you think I can give those out?”

“Your influence with Patterson and Carey doesn’t go unnoticed, Maxine…” Ryan gave her a look and she had the grace to lower her eyes sheepishly before returning his gaze.

“Let me explain the rules, to you, Sheriff, since you seem to come from such a different view of things: My clientele relies on a certain degree of discretion, even thought that’s relatively impossible in so small a town. In order for them to have that discretion and still maintain status in polite society, I don’t notice them and they don’t notice me, unless I’m on their arm for that night. That is how it works,” she said, and Ryan could hear a surprising amount of bitterness in her lovely voice. Her gray eyes nearly glowed with suppressed anger. “Would you have me seduce my powerful ‘friends’ and risk my own meager station?”

“No, nothing of the kind. Just ask them on my behalf, is all I’m asking.”

“Just what is this favor?”

“I need you to keep an eye out for Wayne. Dan and Drew could do that, and they’re both top hands, if you asked them.”

“I think you over-estimate me, but Wayne…” She frowned. “The black boy?”

“That’s the one. I won’t be here, and I need someone to keep him safe,”

“I’m surprised you’re going out of your way to try.” Her mouth twisted sourly. “Let us say I haven’t seen many people willing to watch out for him. But tell me Sheriff, what is taking you away from your watchful post?”

“I’ve been called back to duty for the Union Army.” Ryan’s eyes belied how unhappy he was about it.

Her eyes widened. “So it is true. The country will dissolve into civil war.” Ryan nodded heavily, running his hands through his curls and sitting in the room’s only chair. “And you will be taking any able, younger men to fight?” He nodded again. “Shit!” she cursed. Ryan looked up, startled at the harshness of her tone and her curse. She’d never done it before. “There goes half my clientele. You do realize that Wayne might be enlisted if your commanding officer deems it so.”

“He won’t,” Ryan said firmly.

“And why not? He is young and strong, and would probably be seen as good canon fodder even though the side he fights for ‘supports’ his rights as a citizen.”

“I won’t allow it.”

Maxine stopped looking through a book of clients, turned and raised her eyebrow at him, and he sighed angrily, running his hands through his hair once more, a nervous gesture. “You really care for this boy, don’t you. May I ask why?” Her eyes narrowed, and he looked away from her penetrating stare.

“No, because I don’t know why myself. I just… it’s not fair to him, life isn’t fair to him.”

“It isn’t fair for any of us, Sheriff, so you cannot play that card for him.” she said, her voice hard. “I didn’t want to be a whore when I came out here. I wished to be an actress… a singer… as a formally trained opera singer, that wasn’t much to hope for, but hell, I got the picture that wasn’t so rosy when I was kidnapped and sold into a whore-house. But I made the best of it. And that is all Wayne can do with his lot in life. You can’t always be there to protect him.”

“I know!” Ryan snapped. “But I can at least spare him this.” He rose, smacking his hat against his leg.

She watched him with inscrutable eyes but nodded. “What does he do for you that you’d risk your office, even your neck, like this?”

Ryan’s back stiffened from his place by her only window. He looked down into the busy street from the heavy curtains, and could see the black smith’s easily, as well as the saloon a shop down from it. “He doesn’t do a damned thing for me.”

“Oh? You can speak without disgusting me, Sheriff, I’ve seen stranger things than the love of men.”

He flushed and rounded on her. Her eyes widened and she backed up a step. “Don’t ever suggest that again, Maxine. Please.” His voice was quiet, and she swallowed hard, nodding. She made to open her mouth, perhaps to apologize, but he held up a hand. “Don’t.”

She fell silent, simply content to look at him as though he were made of glass, and he turned back to staring out the window to avoid the gaze, watching the day’s activities begin without a care in the world below. Nearly ten minutes had gone by without a word from either of them when she finally spoke, her voice level once more. “When does your commanding officer get here?”

“Tomorrow.” He turned back to her, resting half on the windowsill.

She nodded again, gliding forward and straightening out a lapel on his jacket. “You take care of yourself Sheriff… don’t get shot, etcetera.”

He smiled and pulled her in for a hug. It was like cuddling an ironing board, but slowly, she relaxed enough to return it, resting her cheek on his soft waves compressed by his hat. “It’s nice to know you have a heart behind this cold exterior.”

She jerked back to glare at him, but softened when she realized he was teasing, instead brushing a lock of hair back behind his ear. “You come back, you understand?”

“Yes mom,” he quipped, stealing a quick peck on the lips, which she gave freely with a roll of the eyes and a smile. He gave her a grin and left, his hat on his head, and already the smile was fading on both of their faces.


The next day came, and Ryan sat staring at his old uniform, debating putting it on. He would, save for the fact that this was a new army. He put it on anyway. It couldn’t hurt. After all, if they cared so much how he looked he could always get a new one. It was a little tight through the shoulders, and the middle, but that was only because Ryan had been eighteen and scrawny as a rail when he’d last worn it.

As he finished pulling on the broad rimmed hat with his pale gray gloves, there was a knock at his door and it opened. “Hello Wayne,” he sighed, tying his honorary cavalry sword to his belt, feeling the comforting presence there once more. “Are they here yet?”

“Yes sir, they’re downstairs with Mayor Patterson and Mr. Leveson,” he said softly, watching Ryan as he looked around the room. “Are you sure you can’t make them change their mind?”

Ryan smiled and chuckled dryly. “No, Wayne, I won’t make them change their mind.”

As he turned with his case, Wayne reached over and took it. His earlier conversation with Maxine still fresh in his mind, Ryan jerked his hand away so that their fingers barely brushed. Wayne opened his mouth to say something, but must’ve thought better of it, because he just smiled gently up at Ryan, and for a second, life wasn’t so bad.

Wayne let him pass, and together, they tromped downstairs into the nearly deserted saloon.

The level of conversation hushed lightly, and Ryan looked up to see who could only be his commanding officer and two other lieutenants sitting with Brad and the Mayor, Leveson hovering behind his boss. The new man rose, turning, and Ryan suddenly felt a little better about the whole thing. “Mike McShane, I’ll be damned,” Ryan grinned and moved forward to shake hands with his old friend. He was a large man in every way with a booming voice to match, but that didn’t stop him from having enormous amounts of energy and a quick intelligence that had moved him up in the ranks quickly.

“Colonel McShane,” the jolly looking man corrected him lightly. “You still have those old rags, don’t you,” he said, plucking Ryan’s sleeve.

Ryan nodded before jerking his chin at Brad. “What’s he still doing here?”

“He’s your replacement, as sheriff.” Mike said a little distastefully, not even glancing over at the man in question.

Brad grinned up at Ryan from his place in the chair, “Guess that means they see me as good enough to fill your shoes,”

“Nope, it only means you’re just as non-essential as you always were,” Ryan replied smoothly.

Brad rose, his chair clattering to the floor behind him, but Mike stepped between them, nearly blocking the men’s sight of the other before they went for their guns. “Now, now gentlemen, let’s not fight amongst ourselves. We’ll be having enough of that later,” he said sternly. “Now, Stiles, I need you and the Mayor here to help me round up some volunteers before we move out in two days.”

“Yessir, I think we can find some fine young men if we just set up a table in here, sir. They usually flock in around 1.00 PM…” Ryan said, pointing over to the side of the room to a large table when Wayne stepped forward.

“I’d like to be the first to be enlisted.”

Ryan froze as Mike looked Wayne over. “Oh? Why?”

“Because I wish to fight for this country and the Union army.”

“No, Wayne,” Ryan grated, sending warning signals with all his might as he stepped forward.

Wayne looked up at him, speaking more to him than to the Colonel. “Begging pardon, sir, but I have every right to defend what this country stands for.”

“Sounds fine with me,” Mike said, pulling out the roster and a fountain pen. Wayne made to reach for it when Ryan pushed his hand away. “Stiles? What’s the meaning of this?” Mike demanded, frowning. Hell everyone was now.

“Sir, he doesn’t know what he’s signing up for,” Ryan said quietly, glaring desperately at Wayne.

“If he wants to join our force, then I will not turn him away, and neither will you!” Mike said firmly. Ryan opened his mouth to protest, but a single look from Mike made him shut it, glaring daggers at the floor while Wayne put down his name in a scraggly ‘x’.

“Two birds with one stone and it ain’t even noon,” Brad sighed happily, but another look from Mike silenced him as well.


A table was set up, and as Ryan had said, young men flocked in just after high noon, signing their lives away for the cause under Wayne’s. Ryan looked at each one, some printed, some an ‘x’ like Wayne’s, and he knew they would be loosing that something special that kept them innocent soon. Surely they should at least know how to write their names if they could fight for a war?

Ryan glanced around for Wayne but couldn’t find him. He slipped back behind the bar, looking around when he noticed a light on under a door behind the crates of whiskey. He peeked in, and sure enough there was Wayne, pulling what little clothing he had into a small suitcase.

“You won’t need that,” Ryan said, startling Wayne. He jumped, remembering his manners and knocked. “May I come in?”

Wayne blinked at being asked for permission but nodded.

“You’ll be outfitted with your own uniform tomorrow along with your packs and rifles, so you won’t need any clothes beyond what they give you…” Ryan sighed, looking around the little room that looked way too small for Wayne to have lived in. “I’ve spoken with Colonel McShane, he’s put you in my platoon with most of the men from here put under me so I can keep an eye out for you all. It’ll be hard enough in this war, its best your commanding officer be someone you know.”

“Sir… why did you try to stop me?”

“Because I don’t want you seeing war…” Ryan said heavily.

“Have you been in one?”

“Yes… long ago, the Mexican-American war that gave you this territory, in fact. I was younger than you are now…” Ryan looked at a small ink drawing of someone who had the same mouth as Wayne, the same bright eyes. “Is this your mother?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “She looks lovely.”

“Thank you… but sir… I’d rather serve with you than sit here comfortably and watch you fight for me, hurt and bleed for me,” Wayne said softly. “I know it will be frightening and evil… but I know what suffering is, truly, and I have faith that God won’t forsake me for fighting for my freedom on his Earth.”

Ryan nodded, feeling his heart break a little as he sent out a prayer to whoever listened that he would not let any of these young innocents down, but knowing that that was an impossible wish. He settled for swallowing hard and clapping a hand on Wayne’s shoulder. “Then… let’s go to war, Wayne.”