'Let me be your Dangerous Girl'

-

An ambient rumbling could be heard over the bank, as the three horses trotted swiftly over the darkened grassy hillside – following the gritty dirt path down towards Valentine.

You were sat on Phantom's back end, your arms tightly wrapped around Arthur – wondering just exactly how you found yourself getting into stuff like this.

"Arthur tell you much about what you'll be doin' tonight, (name)?" John's throaty tones called from the front of the group, whilst you leaned a little to the right to see where exactly you were all headed.

"No, If I'm honest." You said, making a point of squeezing your arms tighter around Arthur's waist. "He just told me he wouldn't let me get hurt." You tone was pressing and masked a cautionary message to your sweetheart – who simply chuckled a little in amusement at you. When you appeared angry, he found it rather cute – like watching a puppy growling at someone.

The horses turned sharply to the right, heading up the road that forked off from the track to Valentine, scoping up the hills and off into the vast desert-land on the way towards Emerald Ranch. The landscape at night was haunting, seemingly a different world – a very stark contrast to the world you saw in the daytime.

The moon above cast milky, silver hues across the greyed out environment. A silent wind breezed quietly over the land, causing all trees and singular blades of grass to wobble and sway slightly whilst you all cantered by.

"We ain't too far, so I best let you know what's happenin." John exclaimed, and you made sure to listen intently – considering the wind was blustering in your now cold ears.

"There's a carriage coming through here soon – carrying a very rich banking tyrant and his wife. His name is Charleston Fox." John informed you, an important tone about him. You could tell clearly then that this mission was very serious to the man – and you hoped your part wasn't easy to cock up.

"So, what exactly am I doing?" you asked, resting your chin on Arthur's coat covered shoulder whilst you rode, feeling the cool yet scratchy material against your skin.

John halted his horse Old Boy down a pace, back to a steady trot – the rest of the group copying. You knew you were getting close then, when the horses slowed to a halt.

"You, my dear," John started, looking back at you as he spun his horse round to then face the group that consisted of Javier, Sean, Arthur and yourself. "You will be acting as our distraction." John's smirk was a little unsettling to say the least.

From beside you, you felt the cool and fearless gaze of Javier on your person.

"They will stop the carriage for a poor English girl, new to America.... Her horse bucked her off and bolted and she's stranded." Javier elaborated, and you now had some better understanding of the part you were going to have to play.

"Just give them a good old sob story!" Sean chortled from your right, "Then whilst you're butterin' them up – we come in and rob 'em." A slightly unhinged smile appeared on the Irish Man's expression.

Suddenly, you felt like you were a bit under pressure – you hoped you could be convincing enough... you would have to be, otherwise you would cost the boys a lot of trouble.

"That silence from the lass ain't good, Arthur." Sean called to the man sat in the saddle in front of you, and you frowned instantly at the fact Sean was now addressing your thoughtful silence with your companion – as if you were a silly inferior little women who wasn't even there.

"She'll be fine. I wouldn't of asked her to come if I'd been worried." Arthur vouched for you, "I have every faith in (name)."

"I can speak for my bloody self, boys." You snapped suddenly, reaching just in front of yourself and grabbing Arthur's cattleman revolver from it's holster. You haughtily slipped off the side of Phantom, your white kid boots landing with a gentle thud in the dusty track.

"I am not some pretty, painted, porcelain woman-" You growled in distaste as you marched to the front of the group where John was waiting atop of Old Boy's back. "I will do this so well, Dutch will even wonder why I haven't been allowed out before now!" You snapped angrily.

Not even caring, infuriated and feeling challenged – you hiked your dress up high, revealing your leg in the process – whilst you shoved the gun through the elasticated band of the suspender on your left thigh.

All the boys had been watching, jaws' a little slack – shocked and surprised by what they'd just seen.

Letting the material of your blue skirts fall from your hand, you dropped the dress and returned to the image of an inconspicuous woman – ready to play your part.

"Close your mouth, gents." You scorned at the way they were still all gawping at you.

You had gone off ahead slightly, looking over the track in the distance from the direction of the quaint Emerald Ranch to see if you could spot any sign of the wagon.

Sean looked across to Arthur, raising his brows high with a small, but gradually growing smirk.

"Bloody hell, Arthur..." he whispered to the gunslinger, who had been sat on Phantom and watching your every move. Arthur had to admit, watching you stand up to them all like that was rather attractive – he had never seen you be so powerful. Not to mention the unintentional tease of your leg – it had his mind reverting straight back to the night the pair of you had spent in Valentine when you had been attacked by that horrible wolf.

"We got our work cut out with this one, I'm sure." Arthur smirked back at Sean, the pair of them chuckling lowly and knowingly to each other in the dark.

From in the distance, just over the hill – a dwindling light appeared. It grew stronger within a few seconds, and then soon followed the image of some horses and a very grand carriage, peeking over the hill by the tree – bumbling along at a steady pace along the track.

"That's our man, ain't it John?" Arthur called, gathering up Phantom's reins. The horse was a bugger for sensing excited and apprehensive energy and so started misbehaving, trying to throw in some small bucks and a few pathetic attempts at some rears – which Arthur quickly had subdued with a few short and sharp nudges of his spurs into Phantom's side.

"Yup – that's him alright!" John called back, looking down at you quickly. "You gonna be okay (name)? We're gonna wait on this ridge over there until we see Charleston get out of the carriage."

A bold smirk painted your lips, as you nodded assuredly to Marston.

"I'll be fine. I can handle myself." You replied. This attitude was certainly a far cry from the sceptical girl who'd left the camp twenty minutes ago.

It was your desire to prove them all wrong that had you like this – you wanted to return to camp feeling like you had been the very back bone of this job. You wanted Dutch to praise you and honour like a queen.

John took off then at a gallop, Javier and Sean soon followed. Arthur however, was fighting Phantom to not bolt off with the rest of them whilst he stopped by you. The concerned look on his face was sweet.

"Don't you go and do anythin' stupid for pride, you hear me girl?" he cautioned you, a pressing look in his stormy blue orbs. "If you get into trouble, you let me know for gods sake. Shoot your gun, anything – I'll come help you." The gunslinger was fretting so much over you.

"I think I'll be fine... all I'm doing is playing a part." You whispered, blowing him a kiss either way. "Now get gone, go join the others." You ushered, clapping your hand across Phantom's hind quarters as the horse raced off across the deserted landscape to join the other horses on the secluded ridge.

Drawing in a deep breath of the brisk air around you – your feet carried you further down the track, past where the boys' where hidden and closer towards your stage for the night.

The quiet rumbling of the carriage wheels on the track could be heard, as you laid yourself down somewhat awkwardly in the grass – and start to cry to yourself quiet at first – as if you were rehearsing.

Hearing the carriage approaching, and seeing the faint lights of the lamps hanging from the side of it – you began to wail loudly, really laying it on convincingly thick. Behind the loud sounds of carriage's movement, you could hear some confused mumbling from the driver.

Moments later, the carriage was merely inches away from you and the driver had slowed – spotted you laid down in the long grass.

"Miss? Miss!" the driver gasped, "Oh gosh, it must'a been you I heard makin' them sounds, are you okay?" the driver clambered down from his seat to reach you in the grass.

Already the carriage door was open, and a red faced and portly man (clearly a fan of tasteful whiskies and nice food) was leaning out of it looking decidedly angered that his carriage was halted.

"Mr Jules, man!" the southern man barked at the driver who was knelt beside you, "What the devil is going on here?" he snarled, looking at you with pure contempt – despite the tears rolling down your cheek.

In the distance, your three audience members surveyed through their binoculars at what you had succeeded already.

"Jesus, Arthur – I'm sorry I doubted your girl." Sean called across to Arthur, who looked smug as anything hearing MacGuire's apology.

"Yeah, she's something else entirely. Much more past them books and pretty dresses." Arthur responded, his hands resting in a relaxed fashion on top of one another, propped on the horn of the western saddle. Sean started sniggering again then.

"Oh aye, much more past them dresses... and you get to see, you lucky bastard." Sean's tone was highly seedy, and Arthur then shot him a telling look that signalled the young Irish lad was overstepping the mark.

"Can you just concentrate for five seconds, please?" John scolded in a frustrated manner, he felt at times when Sean came along on jobs – it would be more useful to bring young Jack instead.

-

Whilst this had been going on, you were successful wailing your story at the victims succumbing to your dramatics.

"I moved over here for a new start – but as soon as I get over here I've had nothing but trouble – nearly beaten, my horse bolts on me – and now I'm stranded out here with no one to help me." You cried loudly, allowing your chest to heave madly with the raw emotion. Your hands reached up and grabbed the jacket of the driver.

"Please sir! You have to help me!" you screamed, and by this time – Mr Fox had well and truly had enough of this. The man had no compassion it seemed, he just wanted to get himself and his plump wife to the nearest fine-establishment – and wasn't stopping for any soul.

"For gods sake, you goddamn crazy wench!-" the heartless banker called, stepping out of the carriage and rushing towards you to pull you off the jacket of the driver.

Despite the pure show of tears you were putting on, you had registered now that this man had left the carriage. That was it, the boys would be on their way down in the next few seconds.

As simple as someone flicking a switch, the tears were stopped like a tightened tap – and you had morphed into a completely different person. Your hand whipped to grab the revolver from your suspender, and the next moment it was in the two men's faces. The pair of them went as white as a sheet.

"Let's not do anything daft, gents." You cautioned them both, as you slowly stood up. "I'd hate to waste a bullet on any of you." You whispered, looking to your left to see the boys galloping over on the horses. A smug smile crept onto your face and played like a movie – you had done this.

"What in gods name is going on!?" Mr Fox cried, seeing the boys drawing up to block the carriage in – masqueraded by their bandanas.

"I think you will find this a robbery, Mr Fox." John said, his pistol clicking loudly as he aimed it at the narcissistic banker. You could see the smirk in Marston's eyes despite the fact his mouth was hidden. "How about you hand over everything, and no one gets hurt."

The large man spat at the hooves of Old Boy, and sent a dirtied glare up at John – who simply cocked his head and tutted at him like a child.

"Now that aint nice, is it?" he cooed patronizingly.

Arthur's angered growls entered the air, as he swung himself from Phantom's side and marched up to Charleston fox, slamming him into the side of the crimson red carriage – the force of the shove caused the thing to wobble precariously whilst his wife inside screamed annoyingly loudly.

"We ain't got all goddamn night, partner." Arthur snapped, grabbing the banker's smart black jacket in his hands, the material stuffing Arthur's white knuckled fists. The gunslinger slammed the man into the carriage once again. "You give us all your money, right now – or I give both you and your goddamn lady a bullet-"

You were admittedly both stunned and extremely (oddly so) intrigued by this side of Arthur. So rough and ready, berating this hoity banker so much you were certain Mr Fox had wet himself.

"Here – t-take this..." the man bumbled in fear, turning over a very beautiful ornate pocket watch into Arthur's palm.

"You take this, princess-" Arthur called and threw the watch at you, as you caught it niftily and slipped it into the pocket of your coat. Morgan's attention was then back on the banker in front of him.

"That ain't all though, is it Mister?" he reviled patronisingly, prodding the barrel of his Volcanic Pistol into the chest of the terrified man. Arthur's glare was filled with menace and control as he gestured to the man's wife sat there frozen in the carriage, clutching her purse tightly in her lap.

"Could you search that purse, darlin'?" Arthur said to you, a gentle tone when directed at his girl. You happily complied – this job had turned your perspective around wildly in the space of an evening. Before this, you had never ever seen yourself playing any sort of part – even a minuscule one – in a robbery like this.

Yet here you were, getting an absolute kick and a thrill out of this. Something about clutching that gun in your hand, having the upper hand over these toffee-nosed posh people made you feel so very untouchable. It was as if you finally were getting your small secret revenge on the people who had pretended not to see you all those times you'd been screaming from the back of an O'Driscoll's horse. Crying for some help and begging for mercy – whilst the rich and wealthy turned the other cheek on you. This was your reprise for that poor, unfortunate version of yourself. Besides, you were running the with big boys now – you felt more than protected than ever to play the part of a sly vixen to get your own back.

Climbing inside of the carriage – Mrs Fox whimpered like a frightened dog as you snatched the purse from her grasp. Despite her little noises of terror, her pig-like face expressed a look of pure white hatred and anger at you – but you knew that fear she felt kept her lip buttoned. You clocked her brown eyes constantly flickering down to the gun in your right hand.

"This is a lovely purse," you remarked with a sugar coated tone, undoing the copper clasp with a quiet click, revealing the various treasures inside the small clutch bag. "Seems the inside is just as nice..."

The woman's chubby face frowned further, so she looked like a crumpled paper bag. Her short, stubby nose was twitching in irritation of you sitting there rooting through her purse with one hand, and the other holding a gun up in her face.

"You.. You won't get away with this – you bitch-" she hissed, but her shaking tones deceived her words of acrimony. Your (eye colour) eyes darted up and gave her a look that would kill if it could. Fingers edging a little, you repositioned your hold on the weapon and made a point of holding it closer to her face.

"Is that it (name)?" John had shouted from outside the carriage, his voice muffled ever so slightly. Clearly they were hurrying you on now, every second counted on a job like this.

"Almost." You responded back, leaning out of the carriage door to throw the purse at Arthur, who still had Mr Fox cornered like a terrified mouse against the carriage. Effortlessly, Arthur caught the purse as it sped through the air from where you had tossed it to him. The gesture was so cool, collected and temptingly cocky that it had you feeling a little hot under your dress.

The gunslinger took a sneaky peak inside the purse, and examined the few riches and shiny items inside with an impressed look in his steady gaze.

"Good, I think we're done here, boys." Arthur called out to the group, just as Javier and Sean were finishing emptying the finer belongings of the travel trunk from the back of the carriage.

The scene was a mess, you had to admit. Carriage doors flung wide open, Mr Fox's jacket was stretched and scruffy looking from Arthur's threatening gestures and Sean and Javier had done a perfectly good job of scattering the coupe's clothes all over the bloody floor when they'd been looting through the luggage.

"Thank you for being so charitable this evenin', folks." John remarked in a brash manner, his eyes were gleaming with terrible joy – these crimes were despicable, but they gave a rush like no other.

The porky banker was stood there frozen in fear as he watched you all leaving the scene of the crime. The man seemed to be falling apart right in front of you, not sure what to do. It rather pleased you to see such an arrogant, heartless beast of a man be reduced to a speechless, glassy eyed child under the wrath of 4 terrible crafty outlaws.

"You made me so goddamn proud." Arthur whispered to you, his whispering tones wobbling a little in excitement as the pair of you reached Phantom's side. Arthur climbed into the tan leather saddle first, and then offered his strong arm down to help pull you up; which you gladly took with adoring eyes as you gazed up at him wistfully. This time however, he tucked your smaller body in front of him rather than letting you sit on Phantom's very backend. It was as if he wanted to keep you close and safe – often the trip back from a job could be the most dangerous – in case law happened to follow and shoot.

This thought didn't phase you however, as you drank in the praise with the biggest smile on your face. He made you feel so very special in that moment, and you relished every word over and over in your head as the lot of you all set back towards Horseshoe Overlook under the starry night sky.

"Good job everyone, we'll sort all this out to be sold tomorrow mornin' I reckon." John called out to the group as you all cantered with thundering hooves over the empty train track and off into the desolate night-time countryside towards camp. You weren't too fussed about what happened now, too busy occupying yourself with Arthur's closeness. His warm chest against your back, the way his form craned over your own whilst he rode made you feel like you were in a protective cocoon.

Was it normal to feel this peaceful after such a chaotic mess? That job was absolutely crazy, it had been so exhilarating in the moment- blood pumping, heart racing and body finely tuned like a huntress.

And now? Now – you were quite comfortably happy to close your eyes and rest just a little in the perfect serenity of this ride home. Bundled close to your twistedly beautiful outlaw.

This life couldn't seem to be any more opulent.