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Tales of the Meridian Society! (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

"Erik," He loved the way she said his name, or even that she said it at all, "ya'll got a better grip on th' technical side o' this. How many o' them 'conversion surgeries' could ye fit into the Pay-ree cattycombs?"

It only took some quick math in his head; he knew how big the catacombs were and he remembered that the room they were in was maybe 50x50, and not all of that would be needed possibly. He made an adjustment of a few feet either way, just in case, and went pale. Erik put his hand over his mouth, feeling bile rise in his throat as he had the first time he'd pried away the faceplate of one of the Machine-Men.

"What?" Kieran demanded. "What is it? How many?"

Erik slowly lowered his hand from his mouth, eyes still wide. "A conservative estimate would be 650. That's the very lowest number we're dealing with. And each one could turn out...I don't know, ten in an hour?"

"Merde..." Madame LaMonte breathed.

Even Kieran looked rather shocked and daunted. "They'd be swarming the place, maybe even outnumber the population, in a matter of hours."
 
"Six thousand five hundred an hour?" Colin gasped. "There's more than three millions of people living in that city! They could be the population in... in..."

"Nineteen days, five hours, 30 minutes," Doctor Swift stated without looking up. "This assumes that they aren't constructing new surgeries, of course, and that they aren't resisted effectively."

"God," Colin breathed.

Having already made the connection, even without the hard numbers, Sam was already braced for the news. Her only reaction was a hardening of her jaw and a narrowing of her eyes. "Welp," she drawled, "Ah was always told, one riot one Ranger." She finished off her scotch. "Course, Ah always expected a smaller, more human riot."

"Yes, well..." Doctor Swift made a final calculation, then closed his notebook. "Our primary objective is, naturally, to ensure that we do not face a 'riot' of three million Machine-Man hybrids. We'll need two teams. The first, I believe, should consist of Madame LaMonte and Captains Drake and Shane." He inclined his head towards Anne Marie. "You possess the greatest familiarity with Paris, and Colin and Kilian will be much better suited to moving about the city discretely while you attempt to learn more about the connection between the Wings of Silence and the Devil Lord."

Colin glanced at Kilian. "Doctor," he ventured, sounding put-upon.

"Not a word, Captain Drake. Herr Schmidt, Ranger Cavendish, you'll be coming with me. I'd like to capture a specimen or two of the Machine-Men, alive."

"Alive?" Sam questioned.

Swift shrugged a little. "How else am I supposed to see what we can do to shut them down at a distance?" He looked around the table. "Any questions?"

Drake raised a finger.

"Any questions that aren't 'bitching about your assignments?'"
 
Erik smiled grimly at Sam's assessment of the situation. "Yes, unfortunately though these things were human once...they are not any longer. This is definitely an inhuman riot."

"Yes, well...Our primary objective is, naturally, to ensure that we do not face a 'riot' of three million Machine-Man hybrids," Doctor Swift pointed out. "We'll need two teams. The first, I believe, should consist of Madame LaMonte and Captains Drake and Shane. You possess the greatest familiarity with Paris, and Colin and Kilian will be much better suited to moving about the city discretely while you attempt to learn more about the connection between the Wings of Silence and the Devil Lord."

Colin glanced at Kilian. "Doctor," he ventured, sounding put-upon.

"Not a word, Captain Drake. Herr Schmidt, Ranger Cavendish, you'll be coming with me. I'd like to capture a specimen or two of the Machine-Men, alive."

Erik was about to ask why they needed them alive, but Sam beat him to it. His heart thudded a little harder at the idea of having to face them again. Well, it would just be one...he hoped. He only prayed that Doctor Swift wouldn't want him to take off the faceplate as he had that first one. If he wanted that, he'd have to do it himself. When Doctor Swift asked for any questions, Kieran also raised his hand, but put it down when told he couldn't bitch about his assignment. Erik, however, had an actual question.

"When do we leave?" What he really wanted to know was, did he have time to take Sam out?

"I thought you said you liked me," Kieran turned to Captain Drake, looking offended. "Honestly mate, I'm hurt. Right here." He patted his chest over his heart.
 
"When do we leave?" Erik asked, causing Doctor Swift to favor him with an approving, paternal smile. Matching him up with Sam Cavendish had done wonders for the lad. Stiffened his spine, put sand in his craw.

"I'll need a few days, perhaps a week, to assemble my gear for our mission. Call it a week, to be safe. But no fear, lad - we'll get stuck in soon enough." He looked at Madame LaMonte. "We're on something of a deadline it appears, so I'd like your team there in about the same amount of time. But planning and preparation ahead of haste, hmm?"

"I thought you said you liked me," Kieran turned to Captain Drake, looking offended.

"Oh, no," Drake responded, looking shocked. "I never said that. What I said is that I don't dislike you."

"Honestly mate, I'm hurt. Right here." He patted his chest over his heart.

"Better there than elsewhere," Drake said, scratching the side of his throat. "But, Madame LaForte, perhaps we should make plans..?"

Sam chose that moment to rise, and the men at the table bobbed to their feet again. Rather than immediately leave, however, she stopped by Anne Marie's chair. "Ah.... Miss LaMonte..?" Her voice was hesitant, uncertain. "Ah was wonderin'... could Ah have a word wit' y'all?" She glanced at the two Captains, who made no secret of their curiosity. "Somewhere private?"
 
The Doctor's approving smile made Erik feel a little guilty. He knew Doctor Swift didn't think much of him in terms of taking action, that he'd been mostly put on assignments with Sam lately to change that and that the good Doctor was convinced it had worked. He would never admit to ulterior motives, particularly when told that they would have a week. An entire week in Greenwich with Sam! ...If tonight went well, that is. If not, she may never want to work with him again.

Madame LaMonte nodded when told she would need her team in Paris at roughly the same time. "We could leave now if you want," she offered. "This will require reconnaissance and subtlety, and my house is large enough for the three of us." When Captain Drake mentioned it was better Captain Shane was hurt in his heart then elsewhere, both Anne Marie and Kieran had to quickly stifle chuckles.

"But, Madame LaMonte, perhaps we should make plans...?"

"Oui, we can--" But Sam rose and only Anne Marie remained seated, effectively cutting her off. She watched the Ranger make her way around the table, but was rather surprised when she stopped by her chair.

"Ah...Miss LaMonte..? Ah was wonderin'...could Ah have a word wit' y'all? ...Somewhere private?"

Anne Marie arched an eyebrow delicately, exchanging surprised and curious looks with the Captains, before rising. Erik made a concerted effort to look like there was nothing wrong with Sam's request, avoiding eye contact. Anne Marie followed the Ranger outside before leaning against the wall and smoothly folding her arms against her chest.

"Oui? What do you want?" She was trying not to sound impolite, but given their history was certain Sam would understand and possibly even return the hostility.
 
Sam relaxed, just a little, when Madame LaMonte followed her out into the hall. Fortunatly, there was nobody outside.

"Oui?" she asked, leaning against the wall. "What do you want?"

"How do y'all do that," Sam asked. "Makin' French sound all classy an' educated like that..." She shook her head. "Naw, Ah'm sorry. Weren't what Ah wanted to ask..."

Damnit, this had been easy in her head. but this tall, elegant French woman always made her feel like something you'd scrape off your heel. Not by saying or doing anything, just by being... her.

"Uhm... see..." She fiddled nervously with the sleeve of her coat, not able to meet the other woman's gaze. "Ah wonder if'n y'all might be able to tell me a good place to... ah... buy a dress. It don't gotta be too fancy, Ah reckon. Ah ain't a fancy kinda lady, y'know? Jes' somethin Ah kin learn to waltz in."
 
Anne Marie's other eyebrow arched to join the other in a surprised expression. Sam said some interesting things, things that might shock a woman who didn't use her sexuality to get close to targets for a living. But this, this actually surprised Madame Anne Marie LaMonte.

"A dress? To...waltz?" She had to take a moment to digest the request. "Well I um...there's more than a few shops in London and ah..." For once, Anne Marie had been taken off guard. With a deep breath, she took Sam's arm and started to guide her out to the street.

"Come, Madamoiselle Cavendish. I'm sure there are still a few shops still open at this hour. I will take you shopping."
 
Sam asked her question and stood there, waiting, unsure what to expect. She didn't really think that Miss LaMonte was a cruel woman, but she'd been on the receiving end of her barbed tongue more than once. Mostly deserved, mind - they didn't always get along, after all. But...

"A dress? To...waltz?"

Sam's spine stiffened, just a little. That didn't bode well.

"Well I um...there's more than a few shops in London and ah..." It was clear she didn't quite know what to say. Despite herself, Sam found herself balling her fists. Because if Anne Marie said one thing out of place, she'd...

With a deep breath, she took Sam's arm and started to guide her out to the street. "Come, Madamoiselle Cavendish. I'm sure there are still a few shops still open at this hour. I will take you shopping."

"Wait, what?" That had taken her completely off her guard. "Shopping? Ah jes' need one little ol' dress, Miss LaMonte. Ain't no call to go shoppin'..."



Colin very gently, very discretely closed the conference room door. Turning, he leaned against the wall and puffed his cheeks. "Planning may have to wait a little while," he said, looking as if his whole world were slightly out of sorts. "The ladies are... ah... going shopping."

Doctor Swift glanced up. "And Sam isn't storming back in here, disgusted?"

Colin shook his head, pouring himself a medicinal brandy as he did. "It appears to be her idea."

Doctor Swift said nothing. He simply rose, and peered intently at the sky. "Curious," he said at last. "Neither the sky is as sackcloth, nor is the sun darkened."
 
"Nonsense, Samantha," Anne Marie insisted, guiding her down the street toward town. "You need a dress, this requires shopping. I don't suppose you intend to wear those beastly boots to waltz, do you?" She laughed lightly. "And there is jewelry to consider, and your hair..."

Madame LaMonte's mood seemed somewhat lifted as she began to talk about shopping and all the things they'd need to buy. She kept a firm grip on Sam's arm, steering her from street to street toward downtown. Just before pulling her into the first decent-looking shop, Anne Marie stopped and looked at Sam curiously.

"Who is taking you dancing?" she asked with a small smile. "I cannot imagine any of your Ranger friends knowing how to waltz."

~

"Shopping?" Kieran's eyebrows rose and he exchanged a look with Erik, who looked just as surprised. "Sam? Samantha 'Ah'm a Ranger' Cavendish? Shopping?" He imitated--poorly--Sam's accent as he looked for confirmation that they were indeed talking about the same person.

"It appears to be her idea." Captain Drake was pouring himself a drink as he spoke.

"That is...odd. Interesting." Erik rested his face in his palm to hide the bit of smirk escaping to the corners of his mouth. She was buying a dress...for him. Perhaps he stood a chance after all.

"I'd say Sam could've picked a better moment to turn the world on its end," Kieran put in. "But I suppose if the end of the world is happening anyway, why not."
 
"Shopping? Ah jes' need one little ol' dress, Miss LaMonte. Ain't no call to go shoppin'..."

"Nonsense, Samantha," Anne Marie insisted. "You need a dress, this requires shopping."

"Sam," she muttered, reflexively. She hadn't been called 'Samantha' by anyone, not since her mam had died. No, tell a lie. Her dad had, once, the day she'd earned her badge.

"I don't suppose you intend to wear those beastly boots to waltz, do you?" She laughed lightly.

She eyed her boots. "Ah reckon Ah hadn't rightly considered that, Miss LaMonte. They's practical, but Ah'm guessin' y'all are sayin' they ain't quite right? Well, Ah've a pair o' brogans Ah could wear."

"And there is jewelry to consider, and your hair..."

"Jewelry?" That was another thing she'd never really thought about. Oh, sure, she'd seen society girls with rings and bracelets and whatnot, but that sort of thing just didn't fit with the life she'd chosen. And...

"Mah hair? What about my hair?" She eyed the French woman suspiciously. Her hair was her one concession to her femininity, mostly on account of how her daddy had told her once, when she was twelve, that she had hair like her ma's. Even though she wore it braided and up, she brushed it out every night she could, taking care to work tangles out.

They wandered the streets of Greenwich, moving from store to store until they found one that seemed to meet Miss LaMonte's standards. Sam doubted she'd have recognized it as a store, without the French woman. It had ordinary windows, not the kind that displayed wares, and a simple sign above the door. There were dresses inside, but...

Sam stared. They weren't the kind of dresses she'd been thinking, not really. Somehow, she'd formed a mental image of square dancing, and had imagined gingham, or a blouse and a denim skirt. Not... not silk and satin gowns out of a fairy tale. Hell, she'd seen debutantes at their comings out that hadn't dressed this purty.

Suddenly, she felt very out of place.

"Who is taking you dancing?" she asked with a small smile. "I cannot imagine any of your Ranger friends knowing how to waltz."

"Ain't no other Rangers in England, lessen th' EUM's done sent an embassy and theys a Ranger in th' honor guard," she said. "Erik offered t' teach me."

Was that a hint of a blush on her cheekbones?
 
"Well, Ah've a pair o' brogans Ah could wear."

"Brogans? Oh my dear child." Anne Marie shook her head disdainfully. What sort of an upbringing had this woman had?? "No, we are going to get you shoes. Real shoes. Women's shoes. And then there is jewelry to consider, and your hair..."

"Mah hair? What about my hair?" Sam bristled defensively, and Anne Marie shook her head.

"Oh you've got lovely hair, dear. But we must do something with it. You are being taken out dancing; this won't do at all." She found the shop she was looking for, one she frequented whenever she was Greenwich or London for extended periods of time. She paused outside the shop and tilted her head, looking curiously at Sam. "Who is taking you dancing?" she asked with a small smile. "I cannot imagine any of your Ranger friends knowing how to waltz."

"Ain't no other Rangers in England, lessen th' EUM's done sent an embassy and theys a Ranger in th' honor guard," Sam answered. "Erik offered t' teach me." A tinge of pink appeared on Sam's cheeks and she seemed to be avoiding eye contact.

"Erik?" Anne Marie somewhat successfully hid her surprise. "Herr Heinz-Schmidt is taking you dancing?" Her gaze lingered before she smiled cryptically and led Sam into the shop. "Interesting..."

Sam appeared gobsmacked, and why not? Madame LaMonte supposed even if she'd seen such finery before, she'd probably never been amongst it. But this was her chance to turn Sam to her own way of thinking and money was no object. Still guiding Sam by the arm she pulled her over to the counter.

"Ah! Madame LaMonte, what a pleasant surprise!" The man behind the counter greeted her with a warm smile, and the first word to mind was 'obsequious.' But that was just fine for Anne Marie; that was how she liked her shopping experiences to be. "Had I known you were going to be in town I would have had some things pulled off the floor for you. How can I be of service?" He kissed the back of her hand before looking up with an expectant smile.

"Oh not to worry Monsieur Underbridge; I did not expect to be in England long, but plans have changed." Anne Marie smiled and withdrew her hand before putting her hand on Sam's back, pushing her gently forward a step or two. "My friend here is being taken dancing and she has nothing to wear. We need your help."

"She...?" Mr. Underbridge looked Sam over. Certainly she had feminine features but the way she dressed made it very clear she wanted those features ignored. After a moment he cleared his throat. "I am not certain we have much which would appeal to such a young lady's...style." Or lack of it.

Anne Marie smiled and chuckled softly, reaching into her purse and withdrawing a bill. "I have faith in you, Monsieur," she said quietly, tucking the bill into his breast pocket and patting his chest gently.

"Yes, well er...ahem...Right this way, young lady."

Mr. Underbridge guided Sam over to a dressing room, where dress after dress after dress was brought out for Sam to try on. Anne Marie was dissatisfied with all of them. By the fourth dress, she was on the verge of taking Sam elsewhere.

"These are all too pale! You are dressing her, not me! And they are not in her style at all. Bring us something with color! Something with style! She is going dancing, not getting married." She folded her arms and leaned back in the settee, looking expectantly at Underbridge.

"I will see what we have, Madame," he replied with forced patience, bowing before disappearing into the back of the shop. A few minutes later he emerged with a blue satin dress and Anne Marie smiled.

"Oui. This. This is more like what we need, no?" She motioned to Sam. "Go on, try it on!"
 
"She...?" Mr. Underbridge looked Sam over.

"Suh," Sam bristled. "Ah swear ta Gawd, suh, if'n y'all says anythin'..."

The fop cleared his throat.. "I am not certain we have much which would appeal to such a young lady's...style."

If Sam didn't relax, neither did she throw a punch. She just scowled, wishing she'd never agreed to learn to waltz. And Miss LaMontane just laughed lightely and tucked money into the fop's pocket. "I have faith in you, Monsieur."

"Yes, well er...ahem...Right this way, young lady."

Young lady? She'd never been called anything like that. Startled by the phrase, she simply followed the fop over to a dressing room. She tried on dress after dress, blushing at the way the material clung to her body and exposed her breasts and shoulders and arms. Even if, privately, she did like the grey one. Although it made her look positively naked, and showed off the terrible knife scar on her left bicep.

"Ah..." she hesitated as the fop took the fourth dress away. "Ah... Ah dunno, Miss LaMonte. None o' these are..."

"These are all too pale! You are dressing her, not me! And they are not in her style at all. Bring us something with color! Something with style! She is going dancing, not getting married." She folded her arms and leaned back in the settee, looking expectantly at Underbridge.

"I will see what we have, Madame," he replied with forced patience, bowing before disappearing into the back of the shop.

"Ah... Ah dunno 'bout this," Sam said, staring at the dismissed dresses. "Ah mean... none o' them rightly seem... decent." She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, hardly daring to meet the other woman's gaze, knowing she'd just see mockery there. "Ah mean, y'all c'n see mah shape 'n everythin'. Ah never thought a real lady would do that. Don't... don't seem right..."

A few minutes later he emerged with a blue satin dress and Anne Marie smiled.

"Oui. This. This is more like what we need, no?" She motioned to Sam. "Go on, try it on!"

Sam rose and took it, then vanished back into one of the changing rooms. She wnet through the ritual again, stripping off her suit and carefully folding each piece before placing it on a chair for her return. Then she held the gown up, trying not to pay too much attention to her body in the mirror, far too aware of the old scars on chest and abdomen and legs and the pale new-healed flesh on her stomach. "Ah'm foolin' mahself," she sighed, shaking her head. "Ah ain't no purdy deb-you-taunt. Ah'm jes' Sam."

She pulled the dress over her head anyway, fumbling awkwardly with the buttons on the back before smoothing the fabric down. The satin seemed to cling, just a little, to her roughly callused hands. Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the changing room. "Welp," she tried to joke, "least it ain't too pale, this time."
 
"Doesn't seem 'decent'?" Anne Marie looked skeptically over at her companion. "Yes of course you can see your figure. That is the point! Step into the twentieth century with me, Mademoiselle." She laughed lightly. A new era was, indeed, dawning and showing one's form was what was "in" these days. Underbridge emerged with a blue satin dress and she smiled. "Oui. This. This is more like what we need, no?" She motioned to Sam. "Go, try it on!"

The wealthy widow sat back and sipped the coffee brought to her, ankles crossed elegantly to one side. Underbridge stood at her shoulder, waiting. Leaning down, he murmured in her ear.

"Madame, I'm not so sure this young lady will find something suitable in our shop," he muttered. "Perhaps she would be more comfortable with something from the Sears Roebuck catalog..."

"Nonsense!" Anne Marie waived her hand dismissively. "Even the wildest of wildflowers can thrive in a garden when given a chance. We will find a dress for her."

Sam came out of the dressing room. Anne Marie sat forward and Underbridge straightened a little. "Welp, at least it ain't too pale, this time," she joked, clearly feeling self-conscious.

Anne Marie, however, smiled warmly. "C'est bon," she said quietly. "Beau, mon chère. What do you think? If you do not love it, we at least have a place to start. But you look lovely, Samantha. Quite lovely."
 
"Welp," she tried to joke, "least it ain't too pale, this time."

Anne Marie, however, smiled warmly. "C'est bon," she said quietly. "Beau, mon chère. What do you think? If you do not love it, we at least have a place to start. But you look lovely, Samantha. Quite lovely."

"Really?" sam eyed the older woman suspiciously for a moment, but she could read no trace of mockery in her voice. "Say bee-en? Voolay penses vraimen?[1]" Her accent was horrendous, laced with Acadian phrasings and flavored with her Tejas, but it rolled off her tongue easily.

She turned back and forth, watching herself from different angles in the mirror. "Ah do like this color. Elley belly,[2] isn't it?"

What. The. Hell? Why'n tarnation was she tryin' to talk French to a French lady. Jes' showin' off? Or - and she was surprised to even think it - mebbe she was trying to imitate her?

"But..." Sam turned again, then shook her head. "Ah... Ah don't mean to be rude, but Ah don't like th'... th'..." She made a frustrated gesture, like she was reaching for something. "Ah dunno how t'say it. If'n it were a suit, Ah'd say Ah don't like th' cut. Skirt's a mite... poofy feelin'."

Sam thought hard, looking in the mirror. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of a Samantha looked back at her. "Y'all..." she began, cheeks pinking again. "Would... would y'all mebbe have somethin' like that fourth dress y'all brought out, but in this color?" Turning a little, she gave Anne Marie a quick, shy smile. "Like y'said, Miss LaMonte... it is the twentieth century, innit? Why cain't a Ranger look purdy, once'n a while?"

[1]"It's nice? You really think so?"
[2]"It is beautiful,"
 
Anne Marie winced slightly at Sam's horrendous accent, but smiled a little. She was at least trying. "Yes, it is quite beautiful. And you look beautiful in it, mon chere."

"But...Ah...Ah don't mean to be rude, but Ah don't like th'...th'..." She made a frustrated gesture. "Ah dunno how t'say it. If'n it were a suit, Ah'd say Ah don't like th' cut. Skirt's a mite...poofy feelin'."

Anne Marie smiled and nodded. "It is called the silhouette. We can find something else you like better."

"Y'all...Would...would y'all have somethin' like that fourth dress y'all brought out, but in this color?"

Anne Marie turned to Underbridge, who bowed slightly and disappeared back into the back. She turned to see Sam smile at her shyly.

"Like y'said, Miss LaMonte...it is the twentieth century, innit? Why cain't a Ranger look purdy, once'n a while?"

"Exactement, Samantha." Madame LaMonte's smile reached her eyes as she sat back, folding her hands in her lap. "And if you will not take that dress, I may." A chiffon dress with a plunging neckline was brought out, along with a rather sparkly number and grey velvet dress were brought out. It was clear Anne Marie favored the latter two, but she stayed quiet to allow Sam to choose her own dress. "This is called an A-line silhouette. It accents your figure very nicely."
 
Sam found herself smiling, even preening a little under Miss LaMonte's smile of approval. "Right," she said, turning one more time and watching the skirt move. "Right. Ain't like Ah'll be dressin' like this, on assignment." She smoothed the fabric again, enjoying the feel. "Most assignments, anyway. An this is a... sill-o-wet, y'called it? Well, if'n y'like it, Ah ain't gonna say you nay. Ah reckon' y'all'd look good in anythin', really."

She clapped her hand over her mouth. "Ah mean, you're a real lady, a grand belle o' th' ball, an' y'got manners an' charm an'..." Her cheeks burned crimson as she felt like she was digging herself a grave. "Not... not that y'can have mah cast-offs," she finished, lamely. Fortunately, the fop returned and she was able to grab the first dress and go hide in the changing room for a minute. Closing the door, she leaned hard against it. "Dumb, dumb, dumb!" she raged at herself. "She's goin' outta her way ta help you, an' you go an... aaargh." The back of her head thumped against the door. "Aaargh."

A few minutes later she crept back out, wearing the chiffon dress. "Ah... I dunno..."

"This is called an A-line silhouette. It accents your figure very nicely."

"An ayline?" She turned, examining the dress. "Ah... Ah dunno. Ah mean, it's nice, an' Ah like th' stripes, but... Ah dunno. It's got all o' this," Sam gestured vaguely at the neckline, "an' Ah ain't got a right much o' that fer this." She stared a few more seconds. "Lemme try the next one."

Ten minutes later, having already tried the sparkly dress, she was wearing the grey one and frowning thoughtfully. Both seemed to suit her better than the first, and Anne Marie had clearly approved of both of them. "Ah..." She turned, then stumbled as she stepped on the hem. "That's decided it," she said, laughing nervously to cover her embarrassment. "Ah like the sparkly one better. This is real nice, but it's a little... complicated. An' if there's one thing Ah ain't, it's complicated."

She smiled, even laughed a little. "'Sides, Ah like the way that blue sparkly one looked on me." Still smiling, Sam nodded decisively. "Yes, Ah do like that one better. Ah'll take it." A moment of hesitation, then she looked at the fop. "Suh... Ah don't reckon' y'all sell shoes, too? Only Miss LaMonte said Ah'll need nice shoes t'go wit' that dress."
 
Anne Marie watched Sam preen and look over herself in the mirror, as though seeing herself for the first time. She remained silent as the Ranger stumbled her way through agreeing to the widow possibly buying the dress she was currently wearing. She knew she didn't mean much by it and it seemed the women had finally found common ground. They weren't fighting or trading barbs, but actually smiling and getting along.

"The sparkly one," Anne Marie agreed with a nod. "C'est bon."

"Suh...Ah don't reckon' y'all sell shoes, too? Only Miss LaMonte said Ah'll need nice shoes to go wit' that dress."

"Shoes are not our specialty, Miss, but I'll see what we have," Underbridge said with a small smile. He wanted to get this urchin out of his respectable shop as soon as possible.

"Something silver, Monsieur Underbridge," Anne Marie added as he walked back into the back before she turned to Sam. "Herr Schmidt will never know what hit him, oui? He won't even recognize you." She smiled, touching Sam's chin gently before leaning back and continuing to sip her coffee.
 
"Something silver, Monsieur Underbridge," Anne Marie added as he walked back into the back before she turned to Sam. "Herr Schmidt will never know what hit him, oui? He won't even recognize you." She smiled, touching Sam's chin gently before leaning back and continuing to sip her coffee.

"Ah don't rightly reckon how he will," Sam agreed, blushing a little. "Ah don't hardly recognize myself."

After a few minutes, the fop returned with three different boxes. "I took the liberty," he said, producing the first from it's box, "of examining Madame's boot to determine her shoe size. Although... are your boots in men's sizes?"

"They are, suh. Ladies boots rarely hold up on th' trail."

"I thought as much, and so these should be sized appropriately."

Sam tried on the first pair and tried to rise. She wobbled, ankles shuddering as she tried to maintain her balance, and finally had to sit back down. "Ah... don't think so, suh. Ah c'n barely stand in them, let alone dance."

"I was afraid of that, Madame," the fop said, nodding. "The third pair may not be to your taste either, then. Here, try this pair." He sighed. "These are the only silver shoes I have in your size, though."

Sam took them, noting the low heel, and slipped them on. Rising, she took a few experimental steps. "They're... nice," she finally said, peering down at her feet. "Ain't a right much to them though, is there? Still..." She walked around, turning quickly once or twice. "Still, ain't like they's supposed to be ridin' boots, right?"

Almost shyly, she looked to Anne Marie. "An'... whaddy'all think?"
 
Anne Marie watched Sam struggle to stay up in the first pair of shoes, then sit. She looked over the third pair as the Ranger tried them on. They seemed to suit her much better, though it wouldn't have been the pair the widow herself would have picked. Still, it was getting late; it wasn't like they had much of a choice.

"I would have gone with a higher heel, but these are just as beautiful," she said at last, giving Sam an encouraging smile. "If you like them, we will take them. Come, change into your usual clothes while Mr. Underbridge boxes everything up. We still have to go to the jewelry store and the salon before they close."

Once Sam was back in the changing room, Madame LaMonte rose and began counting out the money she owed for the dress and shoes. "Madame, are you sure you wish to spend so much?" Underbridge asked quietly. "A woman like her will almost certainly wear the dress once and never again."

"She came to me for help, Monsieur," Anne Marie said lightly, laying the money on the counter. "The entire outfit costs less than three of my hatpins, and if I can change her opinion of her own femininity, I will spend however much it takes."
 
Sam gave a low whistle of surprise and awe as Anne Marie said she'd choose a higher heel. "Ah don't rightly reckon why y'all'd wanna do that. Yer right tall anyway, so... hmmm.." She thought about it. Must be some sorta advantage, but Ah cain't rightly see what it is."

But despite that, the combination of the feel of the dress and the admiring words of Miss LaMonte and the thought of what Erik might think when he saw her made her feel.. she struggled for the words. Warm. Warm and gooey and just a little hot an' bothered at the idea of the German's hands on her back and kissing him. Of Miss LaMonte funning her soft fingers over her hips and touching her where only...

Blushing hard, Sam shook her head to try and clear it of those thoughts. She hurried through getting dressed, then stopped and looked in the mirror. Plain ol' dangerous Sam Cavendish stared back. Then, smiling just a little, she undid the top two buttons of her blouse. "There. Remind 'em all that Sam's short fer 'Samantha'.

As soon as she emerged from the dressing room, though, those two buttons commenced to nagging at her. Making her feel like she was being stared at, and three times in ten feet she fought the urge to button back up. But then, Sam saw Anne Marie paying.

"Now jes'a gall-durned minute!" she shouted, advancing on the other woman . "Ah'm able t'pay for wy stuff myself!"
 
"Ah don't rightly reckon why y'all'd wanna do that. Yer right tall anyway, so... hmmm.." Sam thought about it. "Must be some sorta advantage, but Ah cain't rightly see what it is."

Anne Marie grinned that familiar, slightly predatory grin. "But of course I am tall, and shoes can make me taller. If you are taller than a man, then he feels he needs to prove something. You are something to be conquered. But men, they have two heads and only think with the smaller one and they never realize that while they are trying to conquer the mountain, the mountain has conquered them." She winked before shooing Sam away to the changing rooms.

Underbridge was handing her the wrapped up dress and boxed up shoes when Sam came storming out. "Now jes'a gall-durned minute!" she shouted, advancing on the other woman . "Ah'm able t'pay for my stuff myself!"

"Nonsense Samantha," Anne Marie said lightly, waving her hand dismissively as she handed over the packages. "The damage is already done. If you want to spend three months of your wages in one go, spend it on something more significant than a dress. My husband was very wealthy; I have no problem spending his money." Of course she earned money of her own, but she had invested the late Monsieur LaMonte's money wisely since his death. When she turned to walk to the door, Anne Marie's eyes flicked briefly to the cleavage exposed by the top two buttons undone before returning to Sam's face, lips curving into an approving smile.

"Risky. It suits you." She took Sam's arm, steering her out the door and down the street. "Come, next is the jewelry then your hair. The salons are open later than the shops and we don't want your hair falling before it even gets the chance."
 
Sam folded her arms, frowning at Anne Marie's explanation. "Ah've seen a right too many women get conquered - an' few men, too - by men what think theys entitled t'have somethin' jes' 'cause they kin take it..."

She thought a little more. "Cept... that ain't tall what y'all are talkin' about, iz it. More like why Ah talk ta crowds mounted. So's Ah'm in charge, an' they've gotta play nice..."

Sam thought about that a little more. "Gonna take some work, that. Ain't rightly used ta it..." Still mulling, she headed for the dressing room.



Anne Marie's answer to her protest brought her up short. "Three... months..?" Shock turned to horror. "Y'shouldna! We coulda gone someplace cheaper..!"

The other woman's answer was to dismiss her concerns, and then to smile and comment approvingly on the cleavage her open two buttons revealed. Sam blushed, trying hard not to think of Erik's fingers on those buttons, of Anne Marie cupping her smallish breastd, and discovering that the effort just made her think about it more. Deliberately, she changed the subject.

"Saloons? What's one o' them got ta do wit' jewelry or me hair?"
 
Sam was a quick learner. She could be a good student, when the epicenter of Armageddon wasn't going to be happening in Anne Marie's own front yard. Madame LaMonte noticed the blush at the comment on her cleavage but said nothing. She either was embarrassed or thinking about what Erik might do to that cleavage, and neither one was any of Anne Marie's business.

"Saloons? What's one o' them got ta do wit' jewelry or me hair?"

"Not a saloon. A salon. A salon is where you have your hair washed, dried, combed, and put up into a beautiful updo that will make Herr Schmidt's jaw drop. Thank God you have left that part of your gender untouched. And remind me some time to teach you diction." Anne Marie steered Sam to a jewelry store full of more sparkly bobbles, gold, and silver than Sam would have seen in her entire life. The frenchwoman was nonchalant as she greeted the store's owner much the same way she had greeted Underbridge.

"My dear Madame LaMonte!" Yet another, but younger, fop greeted Anne Marie with a smile.

"Johnathan! It has been too long." They leaned across the counter to one another to hug lightly and kiss one another's cheeks.

"What can I do for my favorite fashionista?" Johnathan asked. "I have black pearls, straight from Tahiti. They would match your eyes perfectly. Ooh Madame say you'll at least try them?"

Anne Marie smiled and guided Sam forward with her hand on the small of her back. "We are not here for me today," she said gently, "but for Mademoiselle Cavendish here. She is being taken out tonight, dancing."

"Oh? A knight in shining armor ready to sweep you off your feet?" Johnathan smiled as he turned his gaze to Sam. The term "gender roles" clearly didn't mean particularly much to the man. Anne Marie chuckled politely.

"More like a librarian in shining tweed," she joked lightly. Johnathan clasped his hands and laughed along.

"Oh aren't those types just adorable? So, what are we working with?" Already he was looking through the ring of keys at his belt, preparing to open several glass cases.

"Well, as you can see Mademoiselle Samantha is very fair," Anne Marie began, fingers lightly caressing Sam's skin as they ran down her cheek and across her throat before pulling her jacket slightly off her shoulders to give the man a clearer view. "And her dress and shoes are silver. So with all this pale we need some color. Emeralds or rubies...maybe sapphires to match her eyes?"

"No opal or diamonds? They're your favorites..." Johnathan muttered as he opened several cases.

"Yes well, we are not shopping for me, are we?" Anne Marie leaned across the counter and smiled warmly. "I have faith in you, Johnathan. You are the best in South England."

"Mm." He continued his search for the correct cases before looking up at Sam. He stared long and hard at her before smiling. "You strike me as a fire opal sort of woman," he concluded before producing several necklaces set with firey orange stones.
 
"Well, then. A salon souds a mite bit bettern a saloon." A pause, as she let herself get steered into another store. "Wot's 'diction'?"

Her eyes went wide at the sight of the jewelry. She wasn't a particular stranger to the sight of gold, but... not like this. Not worked into fine chains or ropes,or setwithdiamonds and sapphires aand gems she didn't have names for. She tried to match Anne Marie's cool, calm attitude, but all she could really manage was not pressing her face against the display like a kid at a candy shop.

She was brought back to the present with a delicious shiver, as Anne Marie striked her cheek and neck, before half removing her coat. Her cheeks burned again - and dammit, where was all this blushing coming from? - as she shrugged her coat back on and watched Anne Marie and the salesman exchange words.

"You strike me as the fire opal sort of woman," the salesman finally said, after examining her intently.

"Ah do?" Sam said, uttering a questioning laugh. "Wot's a..." Er voice trailed away as the man opened a case of red-orange stones. After a minute she pointed to the first one, a cruciform thing of silver set with diamonds and the opal stone at the center. "That one," she breathed. "Ah like that one."
 
Anne Marie had known Sam would react in speechless awe when they walked in; she figured places which needed lawmen called 'Rangers' wouldn't have jewelry stores like this. She watched, however, as Sam looked over the necklaces which had been produced. It was like watching a child pick out a toy, and Anne Marie couldn't help but smile a little.

"That one," Sam breathed, pointing to the first necklace which had been produced. "I like that one."

"You have great taste," Johnathan assured Sam with a smile. "Now let's see what else I have..."

"Are your ears pierced?" Anne Marie asked as Johnathan took out piece after piece. "It simply wouldn't be complete without earrings, if they are."

Regardless of her answer, Johnathan brought out earrings as well. He brought out some cocktail rings as well as a few smaller pieces for her to choose from. Next she had a choice of several bracelets and a number of pairs of earrings. Anne Marie waited patiently for the gobsmacked Ranger to take it all in and choose.
 
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