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The Only Rules That Matter: Legacy (Corsair and Madam Mim)

Sam's orgasm wasn't as intense as Jackie's, but that was all right. She'd already gotton off, and the feel of her own fingers and the way Jackie screamed made her gasp and moan as pleasure washed through her. She kept going as best she could, though, licking and stroking until Jackie's body relaxed and the tight grip on her short hair eased. Then, slowly and carefully and faviring her healing leg, she crawled up in shaking limbs to collapse next to Jackie. "Ah promise you," she said with a weary laugh, "that Ah ain't never done mire'n kiss someone afore."

Damn, but she was tired. One arm slipped over Jackie's sleek belly, gently exploring her skin as bith women breathed hard. "Ah reckon y'all'r jes'... inspirational. 'Cause Ah really wanted ta return th' favor, after y'all... uh...got me off." Damn it, why was she blushing? It wasn't like she'd just been crouched between Jackie's thighs, licking her pussy or anything, was it? She could do that without blushing, but couldn't say the words? "An' maybe... next time..."

Sam smothered a jaw cracking yawn. "Sorry," she murmured. "Y'all done wore me out." Still gently exploring Jackie with one hand, she pillowed her head with her other arm. "Maybe next time," she murmured, eyes half closed, "Ah kin... do more... fer you..."

With that, exhausted from the walking and the sex, she drifted off to sleep.
 
It was cute when Sam blushed. It made Jackie want to find other ways to make it happen. As she yawned and snuggled up to her Jackie wrapped an arm around her shoulders, offering her body as a pillow. Cuddling was always nice after all. "One step at a time, kemosabe," Jackie chuckled when she offered to do more for her, but Sam was already asleep.

Over the following months Sam healed slowly but surely. She broke the stick and burned it for firewood just as she'd promised she would once she could walk without it. On bad days she still favored her hurt leg, limping along but independent as she helped with chores and gradually integrated into the tribe. People stopped staring at the white girl dressed like them, walking among them, learning their language. Jackie often kept her company at night but made it completely clear that it wasn't exclusive; they were each their own woman. Despite this she found herself drawn more to Sam, laughing with her or teasing her, becoming fast friends. Maybe even best friends. It was an interesting experience to say the least.

"They're talkin' about adopting you," Jackie said one evening, arms wrapped around Sam, chin resting on top of her head. The bounty hunter herself was getting better at eating her out and in general getting her off, and Jackie was considering introducing a little something new to their strange relationship soon. But she didn't want to if Sam was just going to freak out about belonging somewhere again. From what she'd gathered the woman had herb own attachment issues to work through. "The tribe," she clarified. "Ma said the elders are talking about adopting you into the tribe, giving you a new name and stuff." She waited in the silence for Sam's reaction.
 
The weeks that passed were pleasant ones, for many reasons. Regular exercise, starting slowly with walking and gradually expanding to helping with chores, helped her to regain the strength and endurance she'd lost with her injuries and enforced bedrest. The time spent with Jackie was pleasant as well, and not just because they were sharing a bed more and more. No, the Apache (well, half-Apache) woman was just good company. Fun and sarcastic and full of bawdy jokes and surprising amounts of knowledge. Sam had few friends and far fewer lovers in her life (no lovers, to be honest), so the ease with which she found herself comfortable with Jackie was startling.

But she was running out of excuses, now. Her wounds were healed, and she knew she had to be about her work, six good men were dead, their blood calling for justice. Six families waited, wondering where sons and brothers and husbands and fathers were. Some nights, it seemed, she could hear their cries and demands. But not now, not wrapped in Jackie's arms.

"They're talkin' about adopting you," Jackie murmured.

"Hunh?" Sam was baffled by that. "What?"

"The tribe," Jackie explained. "Ma said the elders are talking about adopting you into the tribe, giving you a new name and stuff."

The nition sounded so absurd that Sam could't stifle a laugh. "Adopt me? Jackie, Ah'm a grown woman. Y'all cain't adopt a grown woman. Only little kids get adopted. Or..."

She stopped, thinking about stories she'd read. "Wait... y'all mean, like, make me an' Apache? That's... Ah mean..." What did she mean? That she was white? That she was a... uhm... a woman that liked women (and boy howdy did she need a better word for that!)? It didn't seem to bother folk in the tribe. "Ah'd... like that," she said, slowly. "But... we'll, Ah cain't stay, Jackie. Ah... Ah wanna, but... Ah've got... got things that Ah gotta do."
 
"I know," Jackie said when Sam started trying to make excuses. "Justice for the dead an' all that. I'm still comin' with you, y'know. But it's been months; surely we can stick around another week or two?"

She looked down at Sam, uncertain as to why it was so important to her that Sam stay and become part of the tribe. Her mom seemed to like Sam too, which had inexplicably also become important over the last few months. It was a weird feeling, being this emotionally attached to one woman. Her moss green eyes turned toward the ceiling as she pondered this and let Sam consider her own options. Finally Jackie brought her eyes back down to look at the top of Sam's head.

"They'll give you a new name, y'know," she informed her again. "I personally vote for Eskaminzim. Means 'big mouth.'" She grinned and chuckled, squeezing her gently with the arm wrapped around her shoulder. "Ooor Bimisi. That means slippery." With her free hand she teasingly ran two fingers up Sam's slit still damp from their earlier lovemaking and laughed. "Lucky for you, I don't get any say in what they name you. Dahteste is a good name, though, if you want to a girl's name. It means warrior woman." Gently Jackie kissed the top of her head, squeezing her again and hoping she was convincing her to stay. "It's only a week baby. Justice can wait that long, can't it?"

She startled herself. She'd never called Sam 'baby' before, or any other sort of pet name couples often used since she'd never thought of them as a couple. Perhaps she was simply being manipulative for her own selfish reasons, but the word had slipped out naturally and unself-consciously. What was happening to her?
 
A lazy thrill of lust sang along Sam's nerves as Jackie teasingly stroked her, and she sighed contentedly as she leaned into her embrace. "Oor Bimisi? Nah. Think Ah like th' sound of Dahteste better. Ain't nuthin' wrong wit' a girl's name, after all. An' yer right, love. Ah kin wait another week."

She blinked in surprise at her words. Love? Had she said that? And... was it just an endearment, or... did she mean it? And did she? She sure liked Jackie - the Apache woman had become one of her few close friends - and tge frequency and enthusiasm with which she took to her bed was clear evidence that she enjoyed Jackie. But... love?

Hell, what did being in love even mean?

Suddenly tired of her racing thoughts, Sam twisted in Jackie's arms and pushed her back down on the bed. Pale skin moved against dark as her long, coltish legs slid over Jackie's thighs and hatd callused hands pressed her back into the matteress. "Jes' wonderin',' she grinned as she straddled her lover's hips, "what's the Apache word fer 'wantin' you'?" She leaned in, tongue parting Jackie's lips as she kissed her lazily. "Jes' wonderin', see. Fer a friend."
 
The use of the word "love" hadn't escaped Jackie's notice either. But Sam froze and seemed to be considering it so she said nothing and let it slide. Love? Jackie wasn't sure if she was capable of love. Love meant being tied down, it meant faithfulness and no way out. Love meant being trapped and what Jackie Sparrow valued most was her freedom. Was she willing to give up her freedom for Sam?

But her thoughts were interrupted when Sam decided to ignore the slip and twisted around, pushing her down onto the bed. Jackie grinned and let her hands slide from her back down to her rear, which she squeezed, to her hips as she leaned over her. Jackie returned the lazy, lustful kiss and pulled at her hips, pressing her own against Sam's as she pulled her down against her. Perhaps Sam was ready for toys to be introduced...but she could wait. They'd celebrate her adoption into the tribe by trying something new.

A week and a half later the elders approached Sam about being adopted into the tribe. She would go on her own spiritual journey to ensure that this was what the spirits wanted, that this was her place in the greater design of the world. Once she had gone on her journey there would be a ceremony where she would be given a new name and officially adopted by the tribe. The morning Sam was to start her journey Jackie stood with her and squeezed her hands.

"You'll do great baby," she said confidently with a reassuring smile. Jackie had grown somewhat more accustomed to the term of endearment but still had to consciously use it to make it feel more natural. "When you come back we'll celebrate like you never have before."
 
"So... uhm... what do Ah do?" Sam asked, looking around the small hut that she'd been led to. It was a good ways out of town, and even with the exercise she'd been getting she was a little winded. A fact that left her annoyed, since the other women - all older - were unaffected.

"First, you strip down," Liluye answered, then laughed. "And you needen't look so startled. It's not as if I've never seen you naked before."

"But... why?" Sam asked, furiously trying not to blush.

Liluye began unbuttoning her own blouse, and the other women followed suit. "Because," she said, foolding the shirt and stuffing it into a burlap sack, "you do not become Apache wearing the clothes of the white man." She smiled. "And because White Painted Woman is free, child."

Deciding that since she'd agreed to this she should respect the tradition, Sam hesitantly began unbuttoning her own shirt. "Who's White Painted Woman?"

""Why, I am," Liluye answered. "And my daughter, and all Apache women. As you will be. Strong and bold, a warrior and a healer, creator and destroyer - for the power to create is the power to destroy."


The first part of the ceremony proved to be remarkably pleasant. Sam was directed to lie down and the other women gathered about, massaging her sore muscles, singing as they did. She didn't understand all of the words - she'd begun to learn the language, but she wasn't that fluent yet - but what she made out was the story of a woman who survived a flood, or maybe the Flood, and who gave birth to a mighty warrior who slew a terrible giant.

The massage and the singing were hypnotic, and she drifted into sleep. She dreamed of the sun, of laying on a flat rock beside a river, feeling the warmth of his rays playing over her skin. The warmth became a heat, not burning but sensual, and her breath caught as the warmth brought a familiar hraviness to her breasts and kiquid heat to her belly. Her legs parted and her hips lifted as she reached out and up, her body straining towards the light as the sun's warmth filled her. Suddenly she cried out, the unbearable heat rising to a pitch as her body heaved in the throes of orgasm. Finally she collapsed, spent, z feeling of warmth and fullness filling her womb.

Suddenly,. her eyes snapped open. Her nipples were hard and her thighs wet, and it felt as if the warmth within her womb remained. She blushed, the flush staining throat and cheeks and breasts as she realized she'd cum in a dream before all of these women. But they only smiled and nodded aporovingly. "No shame, child," Liluya murmured, stroking her cheek. "No shame, White Painted Woman. It is good that you dream of the sun, for you will becime one with Changing Woman over the next four days. And did She not lie with the sun and the rain?"

Sam nodded hesitantly. "Ah... Ah guess..."

Another woman smiled as well, reaching down to the floor as she did. "You were right, Liluya, this one is special - with training, she will be a good match for Tsidiiligai."

"Tsi... y'all mean Jackie?" Sam laughed nervously. "What do y'aAAIIEE," The shriek tore from her throat as the woman dropped a glob of pale mud on her belly. It wasn't cold, precisely, but it seemed that way in the hot confines of the hut. "What are y'all doin'?"

The other women were dropping mud on her as well, rubbing it over her skin. Liluya laughed. "White Painted Woman," she said cheerfully, smearing a mud-covered hand over Sam's face. "Now be quiet, so we can paint you..."
 
"C'mon," Jackie panted. "Just a few more steps. Come on!"

Sweat dripped into her eyes, salt stinging, sun burning on her back. She'd tightly bound her breasts up for bounce support and wore shoes to protect her feet, but was otherwise naked to prevent overheating as she ran next to Sam. They'd been running for miles since shortly before sunup but the sun was almost at its zenith. Soon they would have to turn and run the other way. Shit but it was hot!

"See that bush?" Jackie's chest burned and her arm felt heavy when she pointed to a bit of scrub about a hundred yards away. "Just make it to that bush and we're done. Serious this time, I promise." She'd been urging Sam to make it "just to that bush" for three hours now. Whenever Sam tripped or started to flag she took her arm to keep her from falling but otherwise couldn't interfere. "C'mon kemosabe!" she grunted through clenched teeth. "Don't make me drag your sorry white ass the rest of the way! I already pulled your skinny ass back to the village once already and you ain't got the excuse of bein' half dead this time." She caught Sam's elbow, hauled her back into a stable running posture with a grunt, grit her teeth, and kept running.

~*~

"Dancing. It's...it's...fun..."

Dancing had gone far beyond fun. Day two and it had all gone far beyond fun. Sam was still covered in mud and when Jackie wasn't with her trying to keep her energy and spirits up she was baking and cooking with the help of some of the others meals big enough for the entire village. Shit like this made her glad she didn't have any sisters or cousins; her own Sunrise Ceremony had been Hell enough. She was just glad she'd stayed in good enough shape to help Sam.

"C'mon babe...y-you know...the...the words..." She laughed weakly, breathlessly, and wrapped Sam's arm around her shoulders. "You know the steps...it's like...like one of your...y'know...hoedowns or whatever..." The bounty hunter had damn well better achieve enlightenment and a new understanding of womanhood after this.
 
The days blurred together. Sam had gone without sleep before, of course, but never this long. After the first day she stumbled through the ceremony in a haze, unable to separate waking and dreaming. Was she running, or was she just imagining the White Painted Woman running in the stories? It felt like it was her own feet that were blistered and bleeding, toes stubbed on rocks and knees scraped when she fell, but she couldn't be sure. Dreams and reality blurred together, one sliding seamlessly into the other. Was it Jackie who helped her back to her feet? Or was it Crow, aggravating and taunting her and pushing her to greater effort?

Jackie... Jackie was there, right? She'd been there at first, she thought, but she wasn't sure any longer. Everything was fuzzy, hyper-real and indistinct all at once. The very earth seemed to pulse and thrum beneath her feet, pounding like a great slow heart. The sun above was a living thing, and she'd born his child. Or... had she? She was dimly certain that she'd never been with a man, but the memory of the sun entering her was strong and brought a flush to her mud-coated skin when she remembered it.

There were other... dreams? A river, washing over her and through her, making her cry out as he filled her. Had... had Jackie been there? God, but she wanted Jackie after that. Wanted her on a river bank, where her husbands could join them and... but... were they her husbands? Was she White Painted Woman? Or was she Sam Cavendish?

"Who.. who am Ah?" she cried out as she collapsed after another night of dancing, uncertain if she'd spoken aloud or not.

"Ah dunno?" she heard herself answer. "Who are y'all?"

Sam looked up, to find herself standing over her. Sam - the other Sam - was dressed in a fringed leather skirt and blouse of pure white, beaded with shell and white stones and bone. Her face was painted with black markings, like a raccoon's mask, and a beaded leather belt around her waist supported a sixgun and a long knife. "Who are y'all?" Sam asked, staring.

The other Sam shrugged. "Maybe Ah'm you?" she suggested.

Sam shook her head. "No... Ah... Ah'm me."

"But Ah'm you, too," the other Sam said. "And Ah'm White Painted Woman." She knelt before Sam, reaching out to take her hand. "Ah'm all women, in a way. Th' part you embrace as well as the part you hide from."

Sam jerked her hand away. "No!" she shouted. "You.. you ain't me!"

"Why?" White Painted Woman asked, not lowering her hand. "Because y'all think Ah'm pretty, and you think you ain't? Because y'all'r white, and you think Ah oughta be Apache? Cause y'all spent so long pretendin' ta be somethin' you ain't, that you can't let go the lie?"

Sam tried to scramble back, but White Painted Woman caught her hand again. "Y'all done lived mah life," she said, "through the Sunrise Ceremony. Th' sun's rising soon, Sam, an' you know you can bring new life into th' world with him." She smiled. "Y'done it once already, through mah life. Do it again, in yours."

"But... but... but Ah don' wanna be pregnant!" Sam wailed.

White Painted Woman laughed at that. "You already are," she said with a grin. "Pregnant with new life, new hope. When the sun rises, you can remain Sam. Or..." She paused for effect. "You can be born as someone new. That is the great and only medicine of the ceremony, Samantha Margaret Cavendish?"

"Ah..." Sam stared at this other version of herself. The White Painted Woman, who'd borne heroes and remade the world, who wore confidence instead of bluster and poise instead of swagger. "Dahteste," she whispered. Then she straightened her back. "Ah'll never stop bein' Samantha Margaret Cavendish, though. You understand? But Ah'll also be Dahteste."

White Painted Woman's form and features were lost as her skin began to blaze with golden light, but Sam could somehow still see the smile on her features. "I expected nothing else of you, Dahteste. I expected nothing else..."

Sam's had swam with sudden dizziness, and she heard a distinct shout of alarm. "Sam!" someone shouted as she pitched forward. She was asleep before she hit the ground, as the first golden rays of the rising sun washed over her.
 
Sam was mumbling, clearly straight the hell out of her gourd. Jackie frowned in concern, but kept one arm around her waist while the other hand held Sam's arm around her shoulders. The dancing was more of a lumbering shuffle now, particularly since Sam had started only barely supporting her own weight a few hours ago swimming in and out of consciousness. She hadn't been on this plane for days, anyway. Probably dehydrated, stretched to her mental and physical limits, and she'd lost a noticeable amount of weight over the past few days, causing Jackie to worry. It occurred to her just how messed up this must have looked to an outsider, particularly when the girls not adopted into the tribe all did it between the ages of eleven and thirteen. The only thing keeping Jackie from stopping the ceremony was the knowledge that every woman in the tribe had been through it and come out okay in the long run.

"Dahteste," Sam mumbled.

"What's that kemosabe?" Jackie panted. She mumbled Dahteste again and Jackie chuckled, shaking her head and leaning it back on Sam's arm. "Oh boy have you got some big shoes to fill." She knew she was really just talking to herself at this point, but it still took her by surprise when the bounty hunter lost the ability to support her own weight entirely and slumped forward unexpectedly. "Sam!"

Many hours later Sam awoke back in the familiar hogan. Jackie was preparing a meal but concern still etched across her features even when she wasn't constantly glancing up at her friend. When she saw she was conscious her features relaxed somewhat and she scrambled over to the pallet bed.

"Gave us a scare there, kemosabe," she said, trying to keep her tone light. "Here, you're really dehydrated. Drink slowly." She held water up to Sam's parched lips, encouraging her to drink.
 
Sam took a sip of water, swished it around her mouth, then swalllowed. Several more sips went down the same way, before she felt strong enough to sit up and take the cup for herself. Her hands and arms trembled with fatigue, but she managed. "Jackie," she said slowly, smiling over the edge of the cup, "Ah dunno if'n it's mah ider or yers, but we both gotta recognize they's better ways to get me in yer bed than gettin' me hurt first."

She sipped a little more water, then forced herself to set it aside. Not because she was no longer thirsty, but because she didn't want to start cramping up. "How long was Ah out, anyway?"

"Several hours," Liluya answered as she entered the longhouse. "You passed out at sunrise, and it's almost noon now." She smiled at her daughter. "And don't glare at me like that, because you'll have plenty of time together later. For now, though, I'm just bringing in her dress so she can get ready for the last part of the ceremony."

Sam took the package, something bulky wrapped in an intricatly-woven blanket and tied with string, and began to open it curiously. "More ceremony?" she asked, sounding slightly petulant. "Ain't Ah done enough? And then she gasped a little, staring at the elaborate [url\https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/31/20/4c/31204ce21c54c4577f894a9eeb652fc4.jpg]buckskin dress[/url] she found.

"Stop pouting, Dahtese," Liluya said. "It doesn't become you. You just need to come out and eat, and drink, and dance if you want to. Oh, and lay your hands on anyone who comes to you and asks you to do so."

Sam glanced up. "Why?"

"Because you're White Painted Woman today," Liluya answered, "and healing is one of your gifts." A pause. "For today, at least."
 
"Who's glaring?" Jackie demanded petulantly. "I'm just as glad as she is the damn thing's almost over!"

Still once Liluye had left Jackie helped Sam up and into her outfit since she was still shaky. She had to admit the bounty hunter cleaned up nicely. Once she was dressed she stood back, arms folded across her chest, and looked her over for a moment.

"Looks good," she finally pronounced. "You did good, man. Lots of people don't last as long as you did, or start gettin' real bitchy halfway through. Lotsa white folks would call your visions dehydration and stuff, but I think we both know that's not true." She smiled gently then turned, stripping as she made her way to the blanket covering her own doorway. When she emerged it was in a more traditional dress than her usual bluejeans and buckskin shirt.

"Ready to go finish being White Painted Woman?" she asked with a smile, offering her arm.
 
The dress fit well, and proved to be surprisingly comfortable. Sam turned this way and that, craning her head to try and see how she looked and wishing she had a mirror. She was curious, really curious, to see how she actually looked in it. Jackie seemed to approve, though, which made her smile. "Thanks." Then she made a sound that wasn't quite a giggle. "Ain't worn a dress since Ah was..." She thought hard. "Since Ah was fifteen, Ahreckon."

The rest of Jackie's comments just made her nod. "Yeah. It was real enough. Really real," she added, trying to make sense of memories that blurred visions and dreams and waking. "Didn't quite get what it all meant, but..." But what? Say something crazy like I think I talked to God, who was a woman, and now I feel comfortabke in my own skin? Only, it wasn't crazy. Was it?

Jackie slipped out as she thought, returning shortly in a similar dress. Had Liluyte made it as well, Sam wondered. Or had Jackie made it herself. Either way, Sam nodded and took her arm. "Ah thought th' whole point was thetAh never really stop bein' her?" A moment's pause. "But, yeah. Ah'm ready ta be Sam an' Dahteste again."

She blinked as she emerged into the daylight, staring at the gathered people of the tribe and suddenly feeling very tired. "Jes'... Ah ain't gotta go run again, do Ah? Cause Ah'm plum tuckered out."
 
Jackie nodded as Sam searched for the words to describe her experience. "Brings most folk closer to the spirits," she explained. "Some things we're not meant to know, or at least not at the time of our Sunrise Ceremony. They'll make things clearer in time."

The feast was incredible. Jackie had been helping cook when she hadn't been watching over Sam while she slept, and after days of eating little while preparing lots of food for everyone else, she allowed herself to gorge. Sam didn't have to run again, but several people came to ask her for healing. Jackie guided her through it the first time then let her do it herself. While Sam may have been too tired to dance Jackie did give in once or twice, but by the end of the night they both fell into bed exhausted.

"So, Dahteste," Jackie said sleepily, wrapping her arms around Sam and snuggling close with her eyes already closed. "When you gonna start on your justice crusade, hm?"
 
Sam stretched a little, loosening stiff muscles, then yawned a jaw-cracking yawn as she snuggled back against Jackie. "Soon, Ah reckon," she yawned again. "Once Ah rest a mite." Another yawn, gentler and lazier, and she softly stroked Jackie's back. "Coupla days, Ah reckon. No more'n a week."

God, Jackie felt so good in her arms. Warm and soft and vibrant, even tuckered out like this. Impulsively, she kissed the tip of her nose. "Cain't put it off much longer. Ah... Ah kin hear 'em, Jackie. Th' dead men. A-callin' fer justice. Justice, an' fer their families, so's they kin rest." A soft, single chuckle. "Sounds crazy, don't it?"

It wasn't all the time she heard them, mind. Just often enough. In her dreams, mostly. Mostly. Odd thing, it wasn't fearful. They were ghosts, she believed, but she wasn't afraid iof them. Mostly they made her a little sad and a little angry and a lot determined. She kissed Jackie again, trying to push the mood away. "Y'all're comin' wit' me, right?" she asked. She knew the answer already, of course. But she wanted to hear it again.

Then she kissed Jackie again, lazy and hungry, lingering as she savored the taste of her lover. Her hard callused hands explored her body as she did, enjoying the supple curves beneath palm and fingers. "God, Ah want you," shebreathed, shuddering a little. Then she yawned again. "Ain't that a hoot?" she laughed. "Ah'm too tired ta move, almost, an Ah still wanna fuck."
 
As Sam snuggled back up against her Jackie tightened her arms around her waist a little and rested her knee up on Sam's hip. Her eyes didn't open but she smiled when Sam kissed the tip of her nose. It was cute. Jackie caught the wide yawn while Sam described how she could hear the dead men calling out for justice. It was a little concerning, but she'd just spent four days running in the desert with no sleep and very little food or water; God knew what she'd heard or seen out there.

"'Course I'm comin' with you, kemosabe," Jackie answered, eyes still closed. "Like you could even find yer way out in that desert without me." She smiled a little, then finally opened her eyes when Sam kissed her more deeply than before. She laughed when Sam yawned.

"You're gonna wear me out, man," Jackie complained teasingly, kissing her neck. "Think you're the only one who's tired? Hm?" She kissed a line from the bounty hunter's neck across to her shoulder, letting her hands slide lower as they snuggled together under the blanket.
 
"Ah kin find mah way outta th' desert," Sam insisted drowsily, smiling at Jackie's declaratiin. "Ah'd jes'... ride west." She yawned hard. "Gotta run outta desert 'vent'lly. They's an ocean west o' here, after all."

She yawned again, then made a low purring nouse of contentment as Jackie's lips and fingers traced iver her skin. "Dayum," she gasped at the little thrill of pleasure that coursed through her. "Ah reckon' Ah ain't that tired yet..." Her own hands gripped Jackie's hips, pulling their bodies closer together as she kissed her lover. Their tongues moved together, slipping and sliding as Sam rubbed her lean body against Jackie's softer form, lost in the pleasure of skin against skin.

Then Sam yawned again, hard enough that she felt her jaw crck and pop. "But Ah'm almost that tired," she grinned, licking her lips. "So..." she pressed her knee between Jackie's legs, parting them so she could press her thigh firmly against her lover's mound. "Ah reckon Ah'll neec ta make this quick..."
 
Jackie laughed sleepily at Sam's insistence that she'd just ride west. "It's desert all the way to the ocean, kemosabe," she insisted, shaking her head lazily.

Sam pulled her closer and Jackie groaned in a sleepy sort of pleasure even as she caught her lover's wide yawn. In truth her eyes were crossing, but more and more lately she found she couldn't say no to Sam. As Sam pressed her thigh between her legs Jackie bit her lower lip and let her hand slide down, down, over her scarred skin to her smooth mound. Her fingers found the slick petals waiting for her and she licked her lips.

"Mmm, I'll be real quick babe," she promised sleepily. Sam's skin was soft against her fingers, and the pillow was so soft against her head...
 
God but everything about this felt so fucking good. Jackie's smooth skin pressed against hers, the softness of her folds as she striked her lover's clit. How hard Jackie's fingers were as she clenched hef inner walls around them. How damn comfortable the bed was. That was really nice, that bed. Her brief nap, if "passing out from exhaustion" could be called a "nap", hadn't done much more than take the edge off of four days of sleep-deprived exhaustion.

"Don'," she yawned, kissing Jackie's throat, "don' wan'... quick..." Everything seemed distant, now, as if she were wrapped in a thick blanket. Even Jackie's clever, skilled fingers were a distant sensation. A really nice sensation, mind, but a distant one. Stifling another yawn she tried to focus on her lover, stroking the tender flesh of her clit with her thumb while exploring her depths with two fingers. They kissed lazily, tongues moving slowly against each other.

Sam came with a sharp intake of breath and a whimper, unsure if she were awake or dreaming. But if it were a dream, the Jackie was there with her and she was in no hurry to wake once more. And so, tangled up with the woman she loved, she drifted off into a deep and dreamless slumber.


Sam peered over the crest of the hill, dry baked hearth hard beneath her. Down below a ranch complex sprawled in the valley. There the main house, large as a mansion. There the smokehouse and the root cellar, the servant's quarters and the workshops. The barns and silos and corrals. It was daunting, the Beckett Ranch, and she felt her heart sink as she began to realize the scooe of the task she'd set herself. "How in Hell am Ah gonna do this?"

"You can, Dahteste. You must." There was a clicking as a shape crouched beside her. A fleshless skeleton, still clad in the bloodstained tatters of a blue shirt and dungarees, knelt beside her. "We cannot rest, not while Beckett holds us to this earth."

"There's so many, though," Sam said. "An' there's just me. An''..." She peered down at the ranch. "An' there's somethin' 'bout that that ain't... right."

"It's not just you," insisted the skeleton of Ranger Captain John Hughes. "Tsidiiligai the Sparrow rides with you. White Painted Woman rides with you. The sun and the sky and the earth ride with you. We ride with you." The skeleton reached out, a single bony digit tracing her eyes and cheeks. "It is not just you, Dahteste. It is just us."

Her view began to blur and fade as an intolerably bright light washed everything away.

"Just us, Dahteste. Justice."

Sam's eyes opened, and she was still in the room she'd been sharing more and more with Jackie. Her lover was on her back, snoring enthusiastically, oblivious to the sunlight streaming in through the gap between shutter ansd window. Carefully stretching, trying nit to wake Jackie, Sam let herself sagback into the mattress. "Ah reckon," she said wryly, "that it'd be nice ta go one night without some sorta wierd-ass dream vision thing."
 
This felt nice but God she was so tired. Sam's fingers worked inside her while she rubbed her clit with her thumb, but once she felt her cum around her fingers Jackie allowed herself to fall into sleep. They could do it again, properly, in the morning if Sam was so keen on it. She was exhausted.

Jackie had always been a rather heavy sleeper, troubled by dreams only a couple times a week and even those usually not violent or significant enough to prevent getting back to sleep. She found, however, that lately once she felt Sam start moving around in bed she tended to wake too. The bounty hunter never meant to wake her but for whatever reason it was getting difficult to sleep without her, whether that meant falling asleep or waking up in an empty bed. So when Sam started stretching Jackie found herself half-conscious, then awake enough to respond once she started talking.

"Spirits are like that," she mumbled into the pillow. "Always want somethin', don't fuckin' leave you alone til you do it. Ma wonders why I don't want to be holy or whatever." Jackie rolled over onto her side and snuggled closer to her lover. "Whenever you decide to leave, I got somethin' that can help us find our way back to those men got gunned down."
 
Part of her wanted to get up and get moving, because that's what these dreams always did to her: filled her with purpose, and with a burning need to act. The rest of her was still bone weartvafter four continuous days of wakefullness and exertion, and was perfectly happy to snuggle into Jackie and stay warm and comfortable. "Ah didn't reckon it'd be all that hard," she teasex, "what with a tracker o' your skill. Just a matter o' goin' back where y'all found me."

Grunting a little as she shifted, she rolled on her side and kissed Jackie with a lazy sort of affectionate passion. "Should probably head out in the next day or so, though. Once we get supplies together, an' rest up from the ceremony - ain't gonna do us no good ta leave if'n we're too sore an' tired ta ride far."

Another kiss, this one soft and gentle. "An'... thank you." She grinned after that, and snuggled even closer. "So, what's this thing y'all was talkin' about?"
 
"What so just coz I'm Indian I'm a good tracker?" Jackie teased with a gentle nudge. "That's racist."

She kissed Sam back, running her fingers through her hair. It had gotten a little longer in the months she'd been here. She'd told her that her Pa had always said she had hair like her Ma, so Jackie was interested to see what it would look like all grown out. Probably just as beautiful as the rest of her. She played with a strand of hair near her ear as Sam talked about all the things they had to do before heading out, nodding occasionally to indicate that she was listening.

When Sam asked about the thing she'd been talking about, Jackie pulled her eyes away long enough to sit up and reach over to the bag she took with her whenever she left the village. After digging around for a moment, she found what she wanted and tossed the bag back where it had been. Snuggling back down with Sam, Jackie produced a battered old compass which wobbled as though it were broken.

"Only we gotta be careful with it," she warned. "Family legend says it's over two hundred years old. Got passed down to me when my dad died, and he said it's been in our family for centuries." Jackie looked at Sam and, seeing a dubious expression, explained. "It ain't broke. It don't point north sure enough, but it ain't broke. It points to your heart's desire." She ignored that the compass arrow had lazily floated to the southeast to point directly at Sam. Disliking the compass's backtalk she snapped it shut. "Ain't how I found you, but that's how I got back to the village once I did. Figure we can use it to find where I picked you up, then find their families."
 
"Nah, Ah ain't bein' racist," Sam laughed. "Ah jes' seem ta recall that y'all was tellin' me just last night that Ah'd never get outta the desert without you a-holdin' mah hand." Still, she felt oddly touched that Jackie was showing her a family heirloom. Even if it did sound a little crazy. "A magic compass? Well if that don't beat all. Sounds handy."

She watched Jackie tuck it away, and thought hard. "But... what's yer heart's desire? Ah mean... what if'n yer wanna find treasure, but yer heart's desire is somethin' like... Ah dunno? Jes' goin' home, mebbe. What happens then? D'you find th' treasure, or go home."

The answer, she realized, was vital. She wanted - needed - to find justice for those Rangers. But, she suspected, that wasn't herheart's desire. Not really. That was here, where nobidy judged her for what she was - only how she behaved. Here, where she'd been welcomed and accepted. Here, right where she was now, in Jackie's arms.

Which was a strange thought. But not unwelcome - particularly if it turned iut that Jackie felt the same.

"Probably oughta get up, though," she said suddenly, trying to distract herself. "We got things ta do, an' if we don't get up soon Ah'll try an ,' keep us in bed all day." Flashing an impish grin, she pressed herself against her lover and kissed her thoroughly. "An' you'd probably let me do it..."
 
"Well ya wouldn't," Jackie pointed out. "I still know the desert better'n you do, probably."

Then Sam asked what her heart's desire was. She opened her mouth and closed it once before realizing with relief that she'd been talking about the general "you." To this she shrugged.

"Dunno," she admitted. "I dunno how it works, but it does. Maybe 'your heart's desire' is just kinda romanticizing it a bit, but that was family legend. Maybe it's just, y'know, something you really really want. You're stubborn enough to get it to work either way, anyway." But Sam was suddenly anxious to get out of bed, though not before kissing her thoroughly. Jackie grinned and gave her a playful smack on the rear. "Well then go on 'n git!" she said. "I ain't stoppin' you!" She pushed Sam out of bed before getting up herself and shimmying into her clothes.

Over the next day or so they gathered supplies and prepared for a long journey. Not that the spot to where Jackie had found Sam was very far--less than a day's ride--but they expected to be gone for a good long while. The morning they left Liluye gave them yet another meal for the road.

"Be careful out there, Birdie," she warned. Jackie resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I will, Ma. Promise. I always am."

"Dahteste, you come back with my little girl in one piece. Understand?"

This time Jackie did roll her eyes. "Ma!"
 
"Ah'll have her back in one piece, Ah promise," Sam laughed. "Reckon Ah kinda prefer her th' way she is, anyhow." Grinning at Liluye's answering laughter, she mounted her new steed - a grey stallion with a white patch over ine eye. He hadn't been a gift, precisely. The horse was just too cussed stubborn to be broken. But he'd responded well to Sam, allowing her to saddle and mount him without protest. Now, mounted and with her guns on her sides, she felt like her old self again. No, better than that. Better than she ever had in her whole life.

"You ready, Jackie?" she asked, taking the reins. "Then hey ho and aeay, Silver!" The horse whinnied and reared, and Sam whooped aloud as his hooves clattered on the hard packed earth.


Later...

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Sam breathed, squatting on her heels as she took in the scene. There should have been more of a sign, she thought. More to show that six men and - almost - one woman had met their deaths here. But there was next to nothing. No sign of the blood that the thirsty ground drank. Nothing at all.

Just ash.

"That's one god-almighty bonfire someone built," she observed,taking in the xcene. Blackened earth, and tiny fragments of charred wood nearly reduced to ash. There'd been no rain, but wind had scattered the finer particles. A memory struck her, campfire takes of men who'd seen devils dancing around a fire out this way. Skinless devils, skeletons dressed in white man's rags with tattered flesh clinging to them. Could it be...

Tugging a glove off, she scooped up a handfull of ash and dirt and charrex woid fragments. Grey grit trailed through her fingers, staining them black, and she poked at the detritus that remained. "Bone," she muttered, poking at the blackened specks. "Someone burned the bodies, all of 'em."

Making a facel she dusted her hands off. "Devils," she repeated, "dancin' round a bonfire." A sigh. "Could ye get me a sack, Jackie? Ah reckon this is all th' remains we're gonna find."
 
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