El Paso City

"I do?" I replied, trying to buy time until I figured out what the hell she'd been talking about while I zoned out.

"Yes. It's decided. It's the least I can do for you."

Well, that seemed to cover a lot, most of which I wasn't keen on. She really was exceptionally pretty. Some guy would totally fall for her looks and be annoyed to death by her voice for the rest of his miserable life.

"When?" I asked, trying the same tactic.

"Whenever it suits you. I'm a great cook. Just let me know what you like. I make a great chicken. My family will be there, too, and they're just dying to meet you. I've already told them and they're like totally..."

I tuned her out again, relieved, as her plans seemed to exclude anything sexual.

"Chicken sounds great," was my vague answer.

"Great, just great," she enthused, making those terrible squeaking noises again. "Tonight? That would be like sooo awesome..."

I zoned out again, resigned to the fact this was unavoidable.

I felt like a total idiot. Why the hell was I standing in front of this middle-class home, feeling like a nervous 16-year-old boy, not daring to ring the doorbell? I mean, I was the one who saved someone. Why did that mean I had to endure an awkward situation, including talking to other people?

I always saw myself as the lone cowboy type of guy, although I'd never ridden a horse in my life. Still, the 'lone' part had always been appealing to me. The desert. The silence. Not much talking, certainly not about that emotional stuff people tended to blather endlessly about.

Instead, I stood in front of that damn door, holding a bunch of damn flowers, asking myself if all guys accidentally rescuing strangers had to endure this shit. Sighing, I extended a reluctant finger toward the doorbell. Before it could connect, the door was yanked open.

"Yiiiiii," she screamed, reminding me that I had forgotten to wear ear plugs. Sighing and thinking my hearing would never be the same again, I entered the den of high-pitched noises. Her cleavage was more than generous, and it revealed a substantial amount of female curves. She was styled to perfection and looked like she had just stepped out of a boob calendar.

I found myself being pulled inside by this tiny woman with surprising force and watched her oohing and aahing over my lousy bouquet of flowers. I mean, seriously, I had bought them at a gas station as an afterthought, and they looked pathetic even then. She treated them as if they were a holy relic or something.

I was unceremoniously shoved into a small living room, only to be greeted by a middle-aged couple, obviously her parents. The woman had apparently been crying for some time, as her eyes were red and her face was blotched. Maybe she wasn't looking forward to this any more than I was.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed, threw herself at my neck and remained there, clinging to me with surprising force. "You can't imagine..."

"You saved our daughter..." she was interrupted by her husband, who was obviously doing the manly thing, meaning fighting to keep back his tears. I really hoped he'd be successful, a crying grown man in addition to the emotional chaos around me was the last thing I needed.

"We will never forget..." was how his wife interrupted him again.

"Whatever you need, we'll be there. I can't even express..." and he couldn't, as he was interrupted yet again.

"Our hero..."

With that, the lady planted a huge kiss on my cheek and I was afraid he'd follow her example. What I had just experienced was already more social interaction that I'd had in years. I was afraid they were already planning my wedding and subconsciously checked the room for possible escape routes. Overall, the situation was scarier than the shooting that had caused it.

"Tom, Karen, you're crushing him. Let him breathe. It would be rude to kill him before dinner."

The new voice was female, but neither the high-pitched tone I had helped keep alive nor the shaking, near-crying mother's voice. It was low, melodic, damn beautiful and it had come to my rescue.

I turned towards the source of the voice and it was as if I was struck by lightning. She was a taller Hispanic girl, with gorgeous black wavy hair and a mischievous smile. She didn't seem related to Traci. I had no idea why she was present, but I didn't mind in the least. Suddenly, my main objective was not just to survive the dreaded social evening, but to stare at her as long as possible.

Unfortunately, someone tugged at my arm.

"That's just my adopted sister Felicia," Traci explained, while using her huge boobs to push me towards the dining table as if she were a tug boat. Over my shoulder, I tried to keep an eye on Felicia, which earned me another angry push from Traci's left boob.

I was seated rather forcefully, which put her cleavage right in front of my face. I was afraid she'd have raped me on the spot if her family hadn't been present. She was pretending to pick fluff from my shirt, filling my whole vision with half-exposed boobs. Finally, she sat down next to me before I smothered. Some guys would think, yeah, but what a way to go. Not me. I kept trying to remind myself that the things I disliked about her weren't her fault. Besides, what would Felicia think of me if I were mean to her stepsister?

"... don't you think?" Traci asked and I noticed she had been talking all the time. I had the claustrophobic feeling of already having been married to her for a long time. She was talking, I wasn't listening, just like an old married couple.

"Umm, yes," I tried, and was saved by a soup being placed in front of me. From the other side, her dad placed a glass of beer in front of me, smiling proudly.

"Here, son, you got to try this. It's my favorite."

"Umm, thanks."

Traci seemed happy enough with my reply, or maybe it wasn't relevant anyway. In any case, she had started talking again. I didn't envy the guy she'd eventually marry. Even the best sex wasn't worth this torture. Felicia just sat there, smiling knowingly. As soon as I looked at her, I began to relax again. She winked at me almost imperceptibly and I responded just as subtly. We already had a special kind of understanding.

After dinner, I was shunted outdoors onto their deck, where I welcomed the hot dry evening air. Traci was standing to my left, once again pushing her chest towards me invitingly. She was sex personified and looked as if she expected me to either drop to my knee and propose to her or ravish her where she stood. I wondered if she'd already decided on our kids' names.

To my right was Felicia. Taller. Slender. Elegant. Huge black eyes. Exuding a wicked humor, intelligence, warmth. She waited for what I'd do, knowing all along what it'd be. She was right. I was drawn towards her, but had no idea how to even start a conversation.

"Umm, hey, I'm Simon," I started my brilliant and absolutely not clumsy process of getting to know her.

"Nice to meet you, Simon." I noticed nobody had asked for my name up to that point. It seemed I was just some kind of generic hero figure for them. Anyone who had killed those guys would have done. Traci's totally un-sisterlike looking sister was another matter, though. She seemed genuinely interested in me as a person, and that was clearly mutual. I didn't understand our connection, but I definitely wanted to pursue it, and if possible, not screw it up.

Compared to Traci, she was clad rather modestly, but looked much more attractive to me, nonetheless. A casual tied up blouse, showing some of her light brown skin, and fascinating wavy long black hair.

"Heeey! Feli!" Traci protested.

"Really nice to meet you," Felicia added, and it was all that needed to be said. We just looked at each other, enjoying the silence.

"You should have seen him, sis," Traci interrupted, walking around in front of me and pushing herself between us. "He goes, and was like soooo coooool, like you wouldn't believe..."

I found that I couldn't be too angry at Traci. Despite her self-centeredness, she was somehow oblivious and innocent. It wasn't her fault she'd been raised as a spoiled princess.

I had to strain my neck to look around Traci, trying not to let the moment go. Her huge boobs were trying to shove me away from my alluring new crush. I had been absolutely calm during the shooting, but now I was in panic. I felt that I needed to do something, anything, and had no idea what. I couldn't lose my chance with Felicia, but I had to somehow extricate myself from Traci and her parents and get Felicia's contact info, all without making anyone think I was an asshole. This required skills that I did not have. Those solitary guys sitting on their horses gazing at the sunset never had this kind of problem, I was sure of it. I envied them.

"I'm an accountant," was the first thing that came to my mind, so I said it. "Meaning I travel a lot."

"I mean, you should have seen it. He goes like bang, bang, and everyone's dead..."

"How long are you going to stay in El Paso?" Felicia replied as if Traci wasn't even there. We were encapsulated in our own zone.

"And the cops, I mean, the cops, they were like sooo afraid, they didn't even..."

"As long as it takes," I found myself answering, and we both knew I wasn't talking about my job. I was rewarded with a huge smile that made me feel better than I ever had. We had an almost scary connection after just a few seconds, almost as if we already knew each other for an eternity. I couldn't help but smile, myself.

"Wow, Simon, that is one dangerous smile you have. Especially combined with those eyes. I bet you left a lot of broken hearts behind."

"What? No, none that I'm aware of..."

"Heeeey! He's mine," Traci interjected. "I mean, I invited him. You know what I mean..."

"Yes, to thank me for saving your life, and it was a nice gesture. It is a pleasure to meet your family."

"Yeah, like I totally can see that. A bit too much, really." Traci looked as if she was about to cry. Oh, shit. I didn't want that. She clearly didn't handle any kind of rejection well. As pretty and sexy as she was, she'd probably never experienced any. She seemed like a good person, and the things I disliked about her weren't her fault. But she wasn't for me.

"Listen, Traci, you're great, but this is just a dinner invitation for me."

"I understand. Just great," she huffed, turning around and stomping from the deck as loudly as she could in her heels.

Oh, shit. I knew this situation was beyond my skill level. I thought of going into the house after her, but that would take me away from Felicia. Besides, I'd probably only make it worse anyhow. This kind of stuff was several levels higher than shooting bad guys in the right eye. I didn't want to hurt Traci, she didn't deserve it. I just, well, didn't want her. I wanted Felicia.

Traci's parents looked at me as if I had two heads. In their Traci-centered universe they had probably already started choosing the flowers for our wedding. They looked at me and Felicia in astonishment, but soon started to smile benevolently.

"Take your time, son," Tom told me, patting my shoulder before they went inside again.

"Well, that was awkward," I remarked. I wondered what Felicia would think of me after I sent her stepsister away in tears.

"She'll get over it. Don't think too much of it. Tomorrow, she will be hopelessly in love with the new mail man or the ticket taker at the cinema."

I had to chuckle.

"Not good for my ego."

"If it makes you feel better, she really has it bad for you. She would have married you on the spot. That was a first."

"I had the same impression. It was frightening."

"Yeah, and a recipe for disaster. Shortest marriage in history. Let's say she can be a bit volatile."

We both had to laugh, and the ice was broken a bit. I sensed she wasn't used to talks like this either, and it made me like her even more.

We sat together for a while, enjoying the evening and each other's presence. The comfortable silence stretched between us, as if we already knew all that really mattered about each other.

"You're a bit of a loner, right? The silent handsome cowboy?" she softly asked.

"Yes," I admitted. "Never had much interest. I had a few short relationships, mostly because it was what seemed to be expected of me. I lost interest soon, though. I never felt a real connection to any of them. I couldn't bring myself to go through the whole procedure again after a while."

She chuckled softly.

"That must have driven the local girls nuts. You're quite attractive, you know, cowboy?"

I thought about it. Yes, there had been some interest, but it had never been relevant for me.

"It's been roughly the same for me," she continued.

"What? I can't really believe that. I mean, you're absolutely blindingly hot, and that voice alone..." I said before I could stop myself. She didn't seem to mind at all, though, and smiled that incredible smile once again.

"Why, thank you. You see, I never found anyone for a long-term thing too. Like you, I stopped looking for that eventually. I mean, I know I'm not ugly. I get hit on all the time. Probably part of being an amateur singer and my job as a dance instructor at Rosa's dancing school..."

I couldn't suppress a groan and stared sadly down at my two left feet.

She just laughed. "Don't worry, I can fix that. If it turns out to be important in the long run, that is."

"The long run..." Our eyes met and held. We kissed. The long run had begun, and I was going to do my damnedest to see that it lasted the rest of our lives. Felicia held me tightly to her, seemingly unwilling to ever let me go, which was fine by me.

By unspoken agreement, we took my cheap rental car out into the surrounding desert. We enjoyed the cooling night air and our kisses under the stars of the western sky. We belonged to each other, we both knew it, though neither of us could begin to explain it.

"El Cupido has struck," she remarked, which was as close as either of us came to talking about whys and wherefores.

"So what about your job? How can we make this work?" she asked. Some anxiety had crept into her lilting voice.

"Some things are important now, like this," I kissed her again, "and some aren't. My job isn't. I will find something in El Paso."

"But you must love your job!"

"I'm a traveling accountant, for God's sake, and I found out I hate traveling. I don't even like being an accountant much. I think I chose the job mostly to be alone."

"Not good among people?"

"Never was. Now, there's one exception."

"So we'll live here, in El Paso? Good, as I really love my job and my family."

"Consider it done. Easiest decision ever."

She gave me a quick kiss again before asking, "Shall we go home now?" I instinctively knew she meant her own home, not Traci and her step-parents' house. I hoped it would soon be my home, too. Suddenly, for the first time, I looked forward to living.

"Yes, I think it's time to go home."

Her house, our new home, seemed familiar to me. I had no idea when, but I had been there. She looked at me and I knew she knew what I was thinking.

"Seems familiar?"

"Yes, like deja vu."

"Yes, that's how it felt to me, too. That's why I took it. I've heard there once was some kind of cantina at this place, but it's long gone. Come inside."

For some reason, I expected the interior to be all done up. Western wagon wheels and bare wood paneling, that sort of thing. Instead, it featured warm colors and comfortable furniture. A cowboy hat and a seemingly ancient rifle looked out of place, but oddly familiar.

"I just had to have them. They sort of spoke to me, wanted to be mine."

I nodded, and I knew she understood. The pieces somehow seemed to belong to us. Next thing I saw was a small glass cabinet containing an antique revolver. It was nickel plated, with a mother-of-pearl grip. I somehow knew it was mine. The implications were uncomfortable, to say the least. Who exactly was I?

"Eerie, isn't it?" she asked and I could just nod. I felt the same strong connection to the item inside she obviously felt.

"Where did you find it?"

"Some old guy's estate sale. I loved the cabinet, and didn't think much about what was inside it until I got it home."

We both knew those items had some significance for us, but had no idea why. The result was a stretch of uncomfortable silence.

"You like this house?" she asked, and I was thankful for the changed subject.

"Yeah, I like it," I said, and I did, but it didn't really matter. I probably would have lived in a cave with her.

She just nodded and showed me around wordlessly. She showed me the bathroom, where to put my clothes, the bed we'd sleep in. The whole thing didn't feel like starting a new relationship, but like continuing an old one.

"... and you know, these guys were like sooo weird."

I resurfaced from once again looking at Felicia like a love-struck teenager, and tried to focus on her step-sister's ceaseless babbling. We were invited to their parent's house again, and Traci seemed to have accepted that I was the one who got away. She wasn't used to that, but that 'dreamy' new guy she met at work helped her get over it.

"Which guys?" I asked. Somehow, I knew this was serious.

"So he goes and asks me what I'm doing there, and we were like in a freaking supermarket, so what did he expect, and he has this like totally freaking tatt right in the face, and I just turn around, saying shopping, and he goes and follows me..."

"Traci..." I tried to interrupt the gushing torrent. I knew it wouldn't be easy.

"...so the manager is looking, but he's too afraid..."

"Traci."

"Yeah?" It was as if she was awaking from a dream.

"He had a facial tattoo?"

"Oh, yes. It was some kind of animal, but I was like totally unable to tell..."

"Damn."

Everybody was suddenly looking at me. Felicia, her parents, even the suddenly silent Traci. I shrugged, but they seemed to expect a bit more than that. Traci should have seen a facial tattoo before, during the failed robbery, but it seemed she had successfully pushed most of those memories out of her mind.

"Well, it might be nothing, but the guys I shot had a tattoo on the face as well, and it sounds as if this one was similar."

"Oh no," her father exclaimed.

"Might be a coincidence," I unsuccessfully tried to stop them from freaking out. Maybe the tattoo parlors in El Paso were all really bad and did undistinguishable tattoos on people's cheeks.

Everyone except Felicia started chattering, louder and louder. As I expected, she was absolutely cool. I knew I had seen her calm and cool under pressure, I just didn't know where and when.

"You need a gun?" she quietly asked me. I looked at her and felt her calm confidence in me. I wished I felt the same way.

"I don't know. Maybe. I really don't know what this means. Nothing, maybe."

"Yeah, maybe," Felicia said, as unconvinced as I was. We both sensed something was coming.

I had planned it as a nice surprise. Instead, I felt like a criminal, entering some inner sanctum I wasn't supposed to see. "Rosa's Dancing School" was completely empty, the last students had left an hour before. Everything was dark, but the front door was unlocked. On a whim, I decided to just enter and surprise her. Now, just a few seconds later, it didn't seem like such a brilliant plan anymore. I tried to find my way through the dark and unfamiliar place and just hoped I wouldn't get arrested or shot.

I heard music off to my right. I looked that direction and saw an edge of light around a mostly-closed door. As softly as I could, I crept toward the door. The music grew louder; someone with a clear, compelling voice was singing. I peeked around the edge of the door, and saw her. Felicia. Dancing with abandon, and singing like an angel, with no one else in the room and no one to hear but me.