scurlock | oom: white oaks, new mexico

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oom: white oaks, new mexico

Doc still felt just a tad bit hungover from the drink -- he can't remember what it was -- he'd had the night before at the Bar but he didn't let it show as they stepped through the door from Milliways and into the 'rooming establishment' in White Oaks.

The town was different. There was a church, and soon they would think about a school house, and then the railroad, and that meant cleaning it up and getting it proper for the people in the town...but this was White Oaks. This was supposed to be a town where they could be safe. Where they could relax.

At least tonight, they could relax, then head for Ol' Mexico in the morning.

Even rough, tough, trail riding cowboys needed a break, every once in awhile, and it was no secret that if you wanted a break, that one of the best places in the entire territory to take that break was at Lady Jane's.

"Well I'll be hogtied and sent to Hades, Billy!"

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Billy grins as he steps through the door leading the gang behind him. He gives Jane a hug and then pulls off his hat and sticks it on the stuffed bear beside the door, heading into the room towards a seat and walking right past the wanted posters of himself and a few of the others.

He flashes a smile up at the girl who comes around with full glasses for him and the boys and looks back to see Doc greeted by Jane.

He hasn't seen her in awhile, obviously. It's been over a year, since they've been to White Oaks, and even longer since then.

"Now what have we got here..."

"How are you, Jane?" Doc asks, as he gives her a hug, before he steps in and lets the rest of the gang file in after.

"Wicked boys...four, five, six wicked boys..." Jane Greyhouse takes a look at all off them and then smirks. "Wicked and wanted or just plain wicked?"

Doc decides he's going to let Billy answer that and steps up to the bar to light himself a cigarette.

"Thousand dollars on me." Billy boasts as he plops down in a chair.

"Yeah? I heard five hundred." Jane replies.

"Well you heard wrong, Jane." Billy informs her, smug as hell.

Jane gives a knowing smile, "I also heard you ain't long for the territory."

There's a brief pause. It's almost a heartbeat too long for Doc's taste, as he pours himself a shot of whiskey, then looks up at them both. "We're not. We're goin' to Ol' Mexico, ain't that right, Billy."

Billy nods at him and then Jane wanders over to Tom.

"How old's this fella?"

Tom looks like he's about to faint on the spot as he starts to speak. "Fourteen an a ha..."

"Seventeen." Billy tries to answer for Tom.

Jane eyes Billy and smiles down at Tom. "Fourteen and a half? Well, don't forget that half. There's a lot of experience packing within that half." She winks at him and moves off a few paces.

"It's different." Billy notes as the drinks are passed around, Dave takes two before letting the tray go.

"What, my hair? It's the new fashion, you like it?" Jane asks, primming herself a bit for show.

"Yeah, you're hair, but everything, this whole town. Outside, too. You got a church. This ain't White Oaks." Billy motions towards the door and the now unfamiliar town outside of it.

Doc resists the urge to roll his eyes at Dave when he toasts the ladies in the room with each of his shots and smirks a little when Tommy takes a sip and practically shudders out of his skin.

Kids.

"Yeah, well there's two thousand and eleven souls in this town, Kid." Jane comments, as she walks through the room slowly. "Lot of Back East money. Town's different." She nods a bit, pleased. "Respectable."

Doc's smirk grows as he looks over at her. "You're not tellin' us you've gone respectable, now, have you Jane?"

She twirls a strand of that long, red hair around her finger, voice coy. "Well, to the eye that don't know no better, yeah, I have."

Dave tosses back his shots as he listens and speaks up loudly, "Well, I've heard enough. My boys here would like some boonda upstairs, right quick darlin'."

Billy just smirks and shakes his head. Dave, still thinkin this is his outfit.

Jane just smiles and lays a hand to her ear in Dave's direction. "What? I hear you say you'd like an excellent malt, six times served in a room with a southern view?"

Alright. He's married. And he's got a kid back in New York. And she's...

Doc pushes these thoughts out of his head as he pours two shots of whiskey into two glasses, and slowly walks over to Jane. Maybe he'll think about it later. Maybe he won't.

Right this second, he doesn't care.

"You're a lady to the manor born, Jane." He hands her a glass. "To the manor born."

Then he tosses the shot back.

To say that the boys have been busy would probably be an understatement, as it was daylight, early afternoon, when they rode into White Oaks and tied the horses up outside, and now it was dark.

However, just what they had been up to...well, that wasn't talk for proper folk.

Doc has no idea what the other boys have been up to but he doesn't care. After the first drink or three it was easy enough to forget that he was married. That was hour ago.

Now he's sitting in a bathtub, yes, with soap bubbles, with a glass of something very good. She's sitting next to him, legs thrown over one another, listening to him speak.

"...from the mountains of the moon down the valley of the shadow, 'Ride, boldly ride', the shade replied, 'If you seek for El Dorado.'"

"Why that was heavenly..." She leans a little closer to him. "Who wrote it?"

Doc smirks and takes another sip of the whiskey before he leans back. "Josiah Doc Scurlock."

There's a pause, before she looks at him. "...who the hell's that?"

A door cracks open and Tom slips out, all smiles as behind him one of the ladies sees him out. "You come back now..."

The door clicks softly shut and Tom let's out a 'whoo!' and sets his hat back on, straightening it and admiring himself in the mirror. Just like Billy.

It takes him a moment to notice the lights dancing outside the window below. Torch lights from a mob gathering just outside. "Oh no..."

He quickly turns towards the door where the laughter of Billy and Jane is filtering through. "Billy!"

Billy had been having quite the time with Lady Jane when the knocking on the door sounded. He hears Tom's shout and quickly gets up and into his pants, throwing open the door to Tom who's standing there.

"They don't tolerate scum." Tom says, repeating the words on the sign they'd passed coming into White Oaks.

"Help me gather the boys. Go on, git everyone downstairs!" Billy shouts and ducks back in the room to finish getting dressed and retrieve the guns that Jane is already holding.

Doc hears the shouting before Tom's knocking on the door, and is already out of the tub and drying himself off.

"Doc, they don't tolerate scum!"

"I hear you, Tom!" He calls back, before he practically jumps into his clothes, he's still damp but it'll have to do, and he grabs his rifle as he heads downstairs.

"Billy the Kid? Alias Willam H. Bonney, alias Henry Antrim, and Dave Rudebaugh of Las Vegas!" Carlye is hollering from outside, loud enough to echo into the downstairs as they all come running down.

Dave grins. "He said Dave Rudebaugh of Las Vegas!"

Doc rolls his grits his teeth. "Real happy for ya, Dave."

Jane hikes up her dress. "That's Deputy Carlye, I'd best go talk to him..."

"Turn your bodies over to the law! Or perish in flame!"

As Jane steps outside, she strides down the steps. "Now Carlyle what the dog's goin' on down here?!"

Billy stands behind the door after Jane leaves, gun cocked and ready. The other boys take up positions around him at the windows. Waiting.

Carlyle doesn't bother answering Jane, just pushes her into the mob behind him and let's them take hold of her. "Billy the Kid? We have Jane Greyhouse held out here. I'm comin' in to talk to you. If anything happens to me the citizens here say they will string her up, and burn her. Do you agree to those terms?"

"Do I agree to those terms." Billy laughs under his breath. "Who is this guy?"

Putting the hammer down on his gone Billy clears his throat and nods to the man on the other side of the door, putting on a serious voice. "Ah, yes sir, we agree to those terms!"

Outside Carlyle hears Billy the Kid's acceptance of his terms and steels himself. Nodding to the crowd he draws himself up, bolsters what courage he can manage and heads up the steps.

Billy turns away from the door and tucks his gun away, nodding at the group around him. "Alright boys, put your guns away and look respectable. Ladies, upstairs. O'Folliard? Disappear."

Doc quickly makes his way over to the table and settles in a rocking chair, his rifle beside him just out of sight, and picks up a nail file one of the ladies must have left out and begins to clean up his nails.

Chavez and Henry move to the fireplace, where the Indian sits and opens a small book. Dave sits across from an empty chair at the table and deals a row of solitare. Tom ducks behind the piano and hides.

Billy takes a seat at the table and picks up the Harper's holding it up over his face.

Doc has no idea what the plan is. There is no plan.

Is there ever?

Carlyle slowly walks in through the front door, but none of them move a muscle when he speaks. "Gentlemen?" There's a long pause, before he clears his throat.

Doc glances up at him, but continues to work on his nails, saying nothing.

"Uh, gentlemen, which of you is the leader of your gang?"

Billy slowly lowers his paper, looking over the man who has come through the door in a sort of 'is there a problem officer?' type way.

"That would be me." Billy informs him.

"Arkansas Dave." Dave pipes in at nearly the same time.

"You are not, Dave." Billy turns to Dave.

"I am so."

"You are not!"

"I am so!"

"ARE NOT!"

"I AM SO!"

Carlyle stands there, not sure what to make of the situation and still hoping to keep some order during all of this. "Gentlemen," He speaks up amongst the arguing, trying to keep his voice level, "I am a deputized man. And I do things law way."

Billy looks at him sharply and stands, "Which way?"

Seeing this Carlyle swallows and repeats, "Law way."

Billy considers this and nods, holding back the laughter at seeing the guy squirm. "Law way. I see. Okay, go ahead, go ahead."

Carlyle nods, a little encouraged, and continues, "Now, the people out there, they do things their own way. They got their mind set on a hangin'. Now, it's gonna be hell if I can't control this situation."

He explains and Billy seems to be listening, which is good and brings Carlyle around to his suggestion, "So, uh, what I propose is this." Lowering his voice and his head a little he asks, "I understand you have an indian, in your group?"

Billy can see where this is going and let's Carlyle know with a nod and conspirital smile, "Yes, sir. Jose Chavez y Chavez. He's a Mexican Indian, how'd that be?"

Doc barely blinks through the entire moment between Billy and Dave, but does blink -- and arch an eyebrow -- at offer of Chavez as...whatever the hell Billy is planning.

But his face remains calm.

Chavez turns his head slowly as Billy speaks, and then reaches slowly for the large knife sitting beside him on the couch, drawing it as Carlyle continues the conversation, voice just above a whisper.

"Well now that'd be just fine. If I can give this indian to those people out there they'll be well satisfied. And the rest of you can just, ride out." The deputy grins, obviously pleased with himself for negotiating so well.

Laughing at Carlyle's plan and his own, Billy looks towards Chavez and starts to walk over. "Y'hear that, Chavez? Sir? I agree to those terms. They're an angry mob indeed and we do happen to have an indian on the premises."

Stooping over beside Chavez at the fireplace he lowers his voice a few levels, "Gimme your hat."

Chavez looks at Carlyle and back to Billy and hands over his hat, knife close at hand but for now still down.

Taking the hat and a shawl Chavez has wrapped around his shoulders Billy returns to Carlyle, handing off the hat to Dave who is standing just behind the deputy. "Now, Mr. Law Way. May I see your hat?"

"I really don't see how hats are relevant in this situation..." Carlyle draws back from Billy without moving his feet.

In a swift motion Billy has his gun drawn and pointed under the chin of the deputy. "I do."

Back at the table Doc picks his hidden rifle up and sets it in his lap, watching the scene.

"Dave?" Billy smiles at Carlyle's face. "The gentleman's jacket." Dave sets the Chavez's hat onto Carlyle and removes his jacket as Billy takes away his gun. "There." Billy nods, setting Carlyle's gun on the table and holstering his own. "Now I can talk to you. Now you don't look like such a politician."

"Can I take the indian with me, or not?" Carlyle asks, fed up with the situation.

"The indian's going out to satisfy the crowd," Billy says, humor fading out of his voice, "but you obviously don't understand the meaning of the word 'pals'. Y'think I'd hand my friend over to a buck of mule dung like you? That's an insult. Turn around, Chief."

The next heartbeat, Doc pulls the rifle up to his shoulder and levels it at the deputy without hesitation. The rest of the boys also pull their guns, and now Carlyle seems to realize just what is about to happen, given the look on his face.

He's facing Billy the Kid. He should have known better than to insult him.

Doc doesn't move, just sits there while Billy talks. He really doesn't want to do this, anymore, have to shoot their way out of things, but now Doc sees the plan.

Perhaps Billy should get more credit than he does.

The thought makes him smirk. Part of it is the adrenaline running through his veins, another the whiskey, and another the memory of that girl upstairs.

Maybe being an outlaw just a little bit longer ain't so bad.

Billy helps Carlyle turn around, slapping the shawl around his shoulders and spinning the man around to face the door, his own gun drawn behind the deputy's shoulder. "Alright you white cats!" Billy shouts loud for the crowd outside to hear. "We're comin' out but we're comin' out shootin'! Get ready for war!"

With a whooping Indian war cry Billy runs forward, shoving Carlyle ahead of him. Dave opens the door and Billy pushes the deputy out, firing a shot into the crowd outside and leaping back behind the closing door.

The mob opens fire, sending bullets into the man in feathered hat and shawl and making him dance on the porch like a puppet with jerking strings. The shots hold him up for several seconds and then Carlyle's body collapses and the mob moves in.

"Holy shit. That's Deputy Carlyle. It's Deputy Carlyle." A masked man in the mob informs the others. Murmers spread through the crowd and soon they quickly break up and hurry away, not eager to take credit for gunning down thier own lawman.

During the gunfire the boys inside all hit the floor, guns still drawn but leaving the shooting up to the crowd. When the bullets stop flying Henry gets up to peek out the window. "They're leavin'. They're all skinnin' out."

Billy stands up and gets himself a drink, smirking. Of course they were leaving. Raising his drink to his gang around him he salutes. "Pals."

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oom: white oaks, new mexico

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